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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


























ODDS AGAINST HER 


MARGARET 

AUTHOR OF 



BY 

RUSSELL MACFARLANE 

•I 

■* THE MAGIC OF A VOICE,” ETC. 




',V . t r: - 


CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited 

104 — 106 Fourth Avenue, New York 


Copyright, 

1888, 

By O. M. DUNHAM. 


All rights reserved. 


Pres* W. L. Mershon & C* 
Rahway, N. J, 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


CHAPTER I. 

E gon von ARNIM stood on a corner of 
the Place de la Madelaine one bright after- 
noon in June, pondering over a telegram which 
he had just received from England. 

He was not in the best of moods. 

Surely it was inconsiderate of his brother to 
betake himself to America when he had such 
need of his counsel. 

Confession is said to be good for the soul, 
but it was only after much struggle that he 
had made up his mind to confide in this pos- 
sibly not over-sympathetic brother. Therefore 
it was trying to be denied the opportunity by an 
adverse fate, for Egon’s ideas never flowed freely 
with the pen. When reduced to writing his 
peccadilloes appeared more aggressive and less 
worthy of forgiveness. 


2 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


He bit his fair mustache and looked up the 
street reflectively. There was nothing of espe- 
cial interest in his surroundings. 

Close at hand a building was in process of 
erection. A mason poised a hod of mortar on 
his shoulder and began to ascend an unsteady 
ladder. Egon lazily watched his movements, 
thinking at the same time whether he had bet- 
ter take the night train to Berlin, in which case 
he would reach his garrison next day. While 
he deliberated a coiip^ approached and drew up 
near-by, the horses standing like statues. 
Egon studied the chiffre on the panel, and 
wondered idly if it was a private carriage or a 
voiture de remise. 

Suddenly his eyes lost their absent look. 

What had attracted his attention ? 

On the carriage window rested a woman’s 
hand, with delicately rounded finger-tips, and 
from a curious ring, formed of a snake with an 
emerald head and diamond eyes, flashed quiv- 
ering rays of light. 

There was a grace in the tapering wrist, sug- 
gestive of a long, lithe body. Those nervous 
fingers looked as though they might hold one 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


3 


in the strong clasp of friendship or thrill one’s 
blood with a subtle, caressing pressure. They 
had a magnetic attraction for Egon stronger 
than his will. 

The woman must be beautiful. Why neces- 
sarily beautiful ? She might be hideous, and 
the charm would be broken. 

He laughed at his absurd fancy, and lifted 
his eyes to the mason, who was now like a fly 
on the wall above his head. 

“Ell see her,” he thought suddenly, “and 
dispel the illusion.” 

While he advanced towards the carriage two 
things happened. The coachman touched 
his horses, and drove away, and on the 
spot where Egon had lately stood lay the 
mason crushed out of all semblance to 
humanity. 

The unknown hand had saved his life. 
He repressed an exclamation of horror, and 
glanced backward, but the crowd shut out his 
view — then hailing an empty fiacre that was 
passing, he called to the cabman : 

“ Follow that carriage, and a louis d*or if you 
overtake it,” 


4 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


The man set his hat straight on his head and 
stared at his crazy fare. 

“ B'en, msieur” he responded, and chuckled 
to himself at the folly of being in love; for, 
with his worn-out nag, he might as well at- 
tempt to overtake the winged steed Pegasus as 
those fleet horses. 


CHAPTER II. 


E gon returned to his hotel annoyed at him- 
self and his senseless impulse. The strange 
carriage had been lost in the crowd after a short 
chase, and he experienced the sensation of 
being deservedly beaten. 

When he took up a book and tried to read, a 
delicate hand floated before his eyes. He 
turned impatiently towards the fireplace and 
saw on the mantelpiece a thick letter with the 
Saxon postmark. It was from his sister-in-law, 
Hulda von Arnim. 

He forgot his recent experience in the 
thought of his bright, volatile Hulda, who 
laughed at him, and understood him at the 
same time, who might perchance love him some 
day if he had the good luck to win her. His 
face lighted with pleasure as he broke the seal. 

SCHLOSS Felsenstein, June — , i8— . 
Dear Runaway : You certainly do not de- 
serve a line from me after leaving without ^ 


6 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


word of farewell ; but circumstances arise some- 
times when it is best to take to one’s heels. 
Foolish boy, so you thought I did not under- 
stand that you had gone to England to consult 
Franz. He isn’t there, and when you learn 
what he has been doing you will think, as I do, 
that he had much better have staid at home. 
I cannot understand risking the sea journey 
except in quest of money. Franz is rich 
enough, although he did make his fortune in 
trade and disgrace the family, according to 
Uncle Heinrich. What does it matter as long 
as he has the money ? If you were rich we 
might marry, and I could torment you at 
my leisure. Why didn’t fate put you into 
trade instead of a cavalry regiment at G. ? 
Things' might have been different then. I see 
your eyes flash, my dear boy. You are quite 
ready to sacrifice yourself because you think 
you love me. Nonsense. You would have to 
serve an apprenticeship of twice seven years. 
Waiting is dreary, and the fancy will pass. 
After all, Egon, I am not sure that I don’t love 
you. Sometimes I think I could die for you. 
Strange conceit ! Then I think of the details of 
life, — those prosaic details that kill love. Ah, 
could we live in a bower of roses on butterflies’ 
wings, how charming life would be — but I want 
the pomps and vanities. I want them even 
'more than I want you. Don’t waste further 
thought on me. Forget me if you can. My 
better nature speaks now. So come back de- 
termined to accept the situation. 

I wish you could look in on us now. Anna 
is nursing her rheumatism. She has a new pain 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


7 


with a long name. Paul is as prosy and severe 
as ever. We are in a state of excitement over 
Franz’s probable return. Figiirez vous. He 
has discovered an unknown cousin in America. 
He does not descend to detail, but implores our 
consideration for her. Her name is Prasseda, 
and she is said to be Ulrich’s daughter; said to 
be, I say, because the burden of proof is upon 
your chivalrous brother. He found this little 
savage sitting on a rock in some American 
mountains shooting at an eagle, and dressed in 
men’s clothes. That is what Anna says, and 
since Franz wrote her I presume she read his 
letter aright. He writes legibly, which is more 
than I can say for you. They are expected 
daily. Therefore come home at once. 

Hulda. 

P. S. Don’t take what I said seriously. I 
dare say I shall have forgotten it when I see 
you again. 

P. S. If you come at once you will find no 
one here. Next week the house will be full. 

To Lieut. Count Egon VON Arnim. 

Egon laid down the letter with a sigh. What 
alluring hopes she held out to him. And yet 
they could never be realized. Paul used to say 
in his cynical way, that she had married not his 
brother Friedrich, but his prospects. Those 
having died with him, she would never think 
seriously of. a young lieutenant of dragoons 


8 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


were he a demigod, much less a good-looking 
young scamp with nothing but debts to fortune. 
But why tempt him? Why thrill his heart by 
impossible suggestions? After all, were they 
impossible? Might he not with Franz’s help 
go to America and make his fortune, but would 
she wait ? Would she not laugh at him in the 
end for his pains, when, after years of exile, he 
should return to find her married perhaps to 
another? 

He took up the letter and read it again from 
beginning to end, and resolved that he would 
go home and ask her to be serious, to decide 
his fate once for all. Then he would confess 
his sins freely to Franz, and give up his follies. 
His brother would initiate him into the myster- 
ies of trade and make him rich for Hulda’s 
sake. She should have the pomps and vanities 
she craved so much, and he should give them 
to her. 

It was already growing dark when he rang 
for a guide to look up the earliest train for 
Berlin. If he left at once he might settle 
everything before Franz returned. 

At the appointed hour he was ready and 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


9 


eager to start on the journey which might prove 
the turning-point of his life. Passing down the 
staircase he met a young Englishman whom he 
had known slightly in Russia some years before. 
They were to be travelling companions that 
night, therefore the journey would not be dull. 
There were still a few moments to spare, and 
he went out on the balcony to light a cigar. 
Before him was gay, laughing Paris ! Perhaps 
he was foolish to leave it so soon. Lights 
glittered in the square below. Branches of 
trees waved in the June breeze, and cast 
interlacing shadows on the asphalt pavement. 
Strains of music came to him from a neighbor- 
ing cafe. The air was filled with the odor of 
roses, which stole into his brain. Stars sparkled 
in the clear sky. Surely this was a night for 
revelry and mirth. 

The next balcony was shut off by a lattice- 
work, overgrown with vines, and on the railing 
was lying the bunch of roses that laded the 
air with perfume. In the street beneath a 
woman’s voice was humming an air from a 
popular opera. Suddenly there was a rustling 
behind the partition, and a hand crept out to- 


10 


ODDS A GA INS T HER. 


wards the flowers. Egon gazed as if spell- 
bound. He had recognized the hand, and the 
peculiar ring which stamped its identity. It 
hovered over the roses and touched their petals 
caressingly. Those soft fingers seemed so near 
his own. He had but to bend forward and 
take them in his grasp. Behind the network, 
he seemed to see the shadowy figure of a wo- 
man shrouded in a white veil. He felt im- 
pelled to spring forward and tear it from her 
face, but he drew back. Why should he at- 
tempt to solve this mystery ? Were not his 
heart and interest Huldr/s? It was already 
late, and his English friend was waiting. Why 
did he tarry ? 

Now all was still on the balcony. The 
lights were out. Had she gone ? While he 
hesitated a clock struck the hour. He had 
loitered too long, and the train had departed 
without him. Then reaction set in. He would 
resist this absurd impulse to meet an unknown 
woman. Perhaps, through his trifling, Hulda 
had been lost to him forever. All night long 
he tossed and turned. The figure of a 
woman flitted by, enveloped in a filmy veil, 


ODDS AGAWST HER. 


II 


which entangled him in its folds and stifled 
him. 

When he awoke the sun was streaming in at 
his window. Frangois brought the morning 
papers with his coffee, and lingered. 

“ Has monsieur seen he ventured at last. 

*‘Seen what, imbecile?'' returned Egon, a 
sleepless night not having improved his temper. 

“ An accident to the Berlin express,’' stam- 
mered the man. And Monsieur Gordon is — ” 

“Well?” 

“ Seriously wounded,” cried Francois. “ Ah I 
think if Monsieur had gone.” 

Egon lost his ruddy color for the moment. 
He scanned the paper hurriedly. It was true. 
There had been a collision. Many lives were 
lost, and heading the list of wounded was the 
name of Alex Gordon, whose hand he had 
pressed but a few hours before. 

Surely man’s life hangs by a thread. 

“The Sainte Vierge kept you back,” mur- 
mured Frangois, devoutly crossing himself. 

Egon started. Once more had the mys- 
terious hand been stretched forth to save him 
from danger. 


CHAPTER III. 


HE head of the Arnim family was an old 



X man, living estranged and alone on his 
estates bordering the Baltic, whose life had 
been embittered by the death of his two 
children. 

He had quarreled with his son over some 
trifling matter, and Ulrich, then a high-spirited 
boy of twenty, had left his home, declaring 
in bitterness of spirit that his father should 
live to regret his injustice. Hot words were 
these, uttered in passion, but soon to be verified, 
for not long after the news came to Carlshohe 
that he had been killed in the American civil 
war. 

The blow nearly crushed Count Arnim. 
Prasseda, his daughter, did her utmost to 
console him. Ulrich had been saved so much 
pain and trouble in this world, which to her 
young mind seemed so cheerless. Life at 
Carlshohe in the companionship of a tyrannical 


Odds aOa/jvst DEk. 


n 

father had not been all sunshine, and her 
brother’s death in a land of exile made it 
utterly desolate. The poor child lost heart, 
and soon followed him to the land of shadows. 

After her death the Count sent for Fried- 
rich, the elder of his late brother’s two sons, 
and made a will in his favor, declaring him heir 
to his property, both landed and personal, 
without restriction, his brother to inherit in 
case Friedrich died without issue. 

Franz had broken loose from his associations 
when a youth and gone into business in Eng- 
land, where at the age of forty he had amassed 
a fortune. His uncle, while apparently dis- 
countenancing him, secretly admired his inde- 
pendence. Success in any form won his ap- 
plause. 

Franz was a silent, almost morose man. His 
early struggles had left their mark on a char- 
acter originally open and impulsive. His pas- 
sionate nature was hidden under a cloak of 
sullen indifference. Suspicious of strangers, he 
was blindly loyal to friends, but if his jealousy 
were aroused he became a madman, doubting 
even the evidence of his own eyes. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Once he had placed his trust, he was 
dogged in its defense. Yet in a woman’s 
hands he was a child. 

Egon was the son of a distant cousin on the 
Arnim side. He had been adopted by Franz’s 
mother when a baby. Franz considered him 
his [special charge, and no one disputed his 
guardianship, for the boy was headstrong and 
wild. 

After their parents’ death, when Friedrich 
went to Russia as attache and the younger 
tried his fortune in England, the little adopted 
brother was left at Felsenstein, but Franz 
always cared for him ; he paid his college bills 
and later got him a commission in a cavalry 
regiment at Dresden. He found an outlet for 
his strong nature in love for this fatherless boy, 
and forgave him many a prank that merited 
severe punishment, finding a ready excuse for 
his follies. Egon appreciated his generosity, 
as most boys do who have never had a wish 
ungratified. He was a young lord among his 
mates. This rich brother was a liberal protec- 
tor. Egon had but to ask and everything was 
given him. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


IS 

All went well until Hulda Golof came into 
their lives. She was the daughter of a poor 
Russian noble at St. Petersburg. Friedrich 
met her at Court, and introduced his brother, 
who was visiting him at the embassy. She 
called P'ranz^the bear,” and laughed at his 
awkwardness. It galled his pride. He had no 
ready speeches for her like his brother Fried- 
rich. He was in trade, a stigma which his 
name and race could not outbalance. He was 
not rich in those days, and no one was sur- 
prised to hear that Hulda, whose only fortune 
was her pretty face, had chosen the heir to 
Carlshohe. 

Paul von Kempen declared her interest in her 
husband to be purely mercenary, .nor could 
her pretty blandishments alter this opinion. 
She found his heart steeled against her, and 
hated him cordially in return. Paul’s sister 
Anna, an old maid of fifty, chided him for his 
severity. The bride was so graceful and dis- 
tingti^e. Surely she loved Friedrich devot- 
edly. It was such a touching picture to see 
them together. What mattered her lack of 
fortune, since she was noble ? That was some- 


i6 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


thing. It was far better than marrying beneath 
him, as some people had been tempted to do. 

The master of Felsenstein was silent, for 
if rumor spoke truly he himself had been 
charmed by the bright eyes of a forester's 
daughter in his youth. 

There was one other member of the family 
who did not yield to Hulda’s fascination, and 
that was the Count von Arnim. He seemed 
to share Paul’s prejudice. 

The young couple went to Carlshohe soon 
after their marriage. During this visit there 
ensued a quarrel between uncle and nephew, 
the details of which were never known. It was 
whispered that the heir left his ancestral halls 
hurriedly in a state of rage against his choleric 
uncle. And the incident made little impression 
at the time, because every one knew that the 
Count was an intolerant man, with whom it 
was difficult to live at peace. Hulda shrugged 
her pretty shoulders when questioned, and 
remarked indifferently that it was Friedrich’s 
affair, not hers ; really she could not be held 
responsible for family jars. Later Paul thought 
her words significant. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


17 


When Friedrich brought his wife home Egon 
was a chivalrous boy, with a susceptible heart, 
which his volatile sister-in-law soon swayed. 
She was a year his senior ; but this trifling 
difference gave her an advantage. It enabled 
her to treat him with a familiarity most danger- 
ous to his peace of mind. 

One day he realized with a shock that he 
loved her. Paul had seen and warned him of 
his folly. He exchanged into a regiment on 
the frontier, and tried to forget. Hulda under- 
stood the situation, and ascribed his exile to her 
enemy’s influence. She missed him in her rides 
and walks. His merry voice had made Felsen- 
stein less dull. She wrote him sisterly notes, 
which did not serve to banish memory. 

About this time Friedrich died, and left 
Hulda a charming, penniless widow. His 
death had not entered into her calculations, 
since it left her entirely dependent upon the 
Count, who settled an annuity on her, con- 
ditional upon her never setting foot in Carls- 
hohe. 

The malice was apparent, but she swallowed 
the insult and accepted the money, for there 


ODDS AGAIN S2^ lER. 


i8 

was no option ; however, it was galling to her 
pride. She had set her heart upon being mis- 
tress of this insolent old man’s Schloss in spite 
of his restrictions. Her husband had borne 
affront on her account in silence. Had he 
shown resentment his prospects might be 
ruined. He reproached her with not con- 
ciliating the Count, but she laughed and bade 
him bide his time. How could he expect her 
to cajole a barbarian ? 

She lived at Felsenstein by invitation of 
Baron Kempen, part of each year. During 
his last hours her husband had wrung this 
promise from him. Friedrich’s mother had 
been a Kempen, and the request seemed not 
unnatural ; but her presence was only'tolerated, 
and Paul’s relations with Franz were strained 
in consequence. 

Hulda brooded over the condition set upon 
her allowance more and more. Paul’s taci- 
turn manner angered her ; but there was 
a way to outwit them all. She might yet 
reign at Carlshohe, if she married the next 
heir. He was enormously rich now, and less 
of a bear. Although he had not spoken, she 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


19 


knew by many tokens that she had but to 
stretch out her hand and he would be at her 
feet. Why did she hesitate? Why did she 
find grave reasons for postponing the inevit- 
able, for it was her decided purpose to marry 
him at some future time ? 

Egon’s regiment had been ordered back to 
Grimma, a garrison town not far from 
Felsenstein, and she was thrown into con- 
stant companionship with him again. She 
laughed at his boyish protestations, and 
treated them lightly, but could not make up 
her mind to throw him over. He was so sim- 
ple-hearted and true, handsome and straight 
as a Viking. He loved her with a loyalty which 
touched her heart, although she rallied him on 
his earnestness. England seemed far away in 
those days, for she held Egon in a net as fine 
as her silken hair. 

This was the reason why she half-en- 
couraged Franz, and hesitated to commit 
herself. However, it could not last forever. 
The day was coming when she must de- 
cide ; the boy was beginning to have too 
great a hold upon her heart. She had never 


20 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


told him in so many words that she loved him, 
except in the letter sent to Paris, although 
from her looks and gestures he must have read 
the truth a hundred times. He had returned to 
Grimma the preceding night, and wrote her 
that he would come to Felsenstein early in the 
morning. Franz, too, was expected. She must 
settle her affair with him, and trifle with Egon 
no more. 

Hulda lay in a hammock down by the lake at 
Felsenstein thinking of Egon. As she swayed 
to and fro, fanned by the June breeze, she 
could see from under her half-closed lids the 
swans floating on the water near the shady 
island. She had spent many an hour there 
dreaming with him, and the boat was still 
moored under the bank. Why did he not 
come? 

The woods were full of summer sounds ; 
birds twittered in the branches ; the odor of 
new-mown hay was wafted from a field near-by. 
Hark! there was the rumble of distant wheels 
upon the highway. 

Egon is coming, ” she thought dreamily. 
“ He will seek me here.” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


21 


She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. 
He would be sure to look for her in her favor- 
ite nook by the lake. 

There was an interval of silence, and then 
the branches parted. 

Some one was there. 

All was still again. Did he really think her 
asleep? She looked from under her lashes at 
the intruder. 

It was not Egon who had disturbed her, 
but a young girl tall and graceful as Diana. 
She was gazing at Hulda through the leaves, 
her lips parted in a smile of childlike wonder. 
The sun flickered through the rustling foliage 
and touched her hair with gold, while she 
stood motionless, fearing to wake the sleeper. 

Instinct told Hulda that this vision was Pras- 
seda. A sudden chill passed over her, but 
she gave no sign, and the branches fell together 
noiselessly. 

Danger was near. 

This girl with the fierce Arnim blood would 
make a formidable adversary. Could they 
prove her the legal heir ? Hulda’s eyes lighted 
with malice. Never while she held the key. 


22 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Confused sounds reached her from the 
house. Some one was calling. 

Hulda, Hulda ! ” 

The forest rang with her name. They must 
not find her there. First she must think. 

For an hour she wandered through the park 
struggling with herself. She could not bear 
to face the inevitable. It meant parting with 
Egon. She must put a barrier between them 
that could not be swept away. Her love for 
him was her weakness. He must come soon, 
for it was nearly noon, and he had promised to 
be with her early. At a stile half-way between 
the wood and the high-road she waited. Yes, 
he was coming. He had dismounted and sent 
his horse on by the servant, taking the shorter 
path by the lake. How handsome he looked, 
crossing the field with a swinging step, in his 
dragoon uniform ! 

‘‘You came to meet me!" he exclaimed, 
stooping to kiss her outstretched hand. 

“Art sure?" 

Even then she could not help coquetting 
with him. 

“Hulda, I am here. You bade me come." 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


23 


She drew him down playfully on the wall 
where she was sitting. 

“Are you glad to see me, Hulda?'* he be- 
gan, his voice trembling slightly. “You meant 
all you wrote? You love me, Hulda?” 

“One writ-es foolish things sometimes, 
Egon.” 

“You don’t know how happy it made me to 
think that you really cared for me. If you 
would wait Just a little while I might have a 
home for you somewhere, perhaps in America.” 

“ In America ! ” she repeated, as if dazed by 
his words. 

“Yes, in America. I will go to Franz and 
ask him to help me.” 

When he mentioned his brother’s name a 
shudder passed over Hulda and she drew her 
hand away. 

“ No, Egon ! ” 

“ Why not ? Who could advise me better 
than Franz ? He made his own fortune, and 
knew as little about money-making once as 
Ido!” 

Hulda looked away over the fields. The 
tower of Felsenstein was visible in the dis- 


24 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


tance. She seemed to hear Franz’s voice still 
calling, .“Hulda,Hulda!” 

She tried to laugh and turn him from the 
subject. He was going too far. She had not 
thought he would take the matter so seriously. 
“ You must not speak to Franz,” she said reso- 
lutely. “I forbid it.” 

He was puzzled by her tone, and even then 
did not understand that she had been trifling 
with him. 

“ Can you mean that you do not love me? ” 
he questioned. 

When she looked up and nodded an afiflrma- 
tive he threw himself down beside her and 
seized her hand almost roughly. 

“ It is not true,” he said passionately. ‘‘ Oh, 
Hulda, don’t be cruel to me.” 

Her heart quailed at his change of tone, but 
she must be firm or lose all. 

“ Egon,” she answered, passing her hand 
gently over his bowed head, “ Do you not 
know that ambition has ruled my life ? Fried- 
rich was but a stepping-stone to wealth and 
power. See then how impossible it is for me 
to marry you.” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


25 


She told him this bluntly. Unless she 
showed determination he would never believe 
her; he would go on protesting and pleading. 
She could not bear the strain. If he under- 
stood once for all, how little chance there was 
he would desist. 

All Paul’s warning words came back to his 
mind. It was true. She had acknowledged it 
frankly. He drew away from her and stood 
erect. There was no appeal in his attitude, 
now. 

Why did you write me and raise false hopes, 
Hulda,” he said reproachfully. ‘‘.Why were 
you so hard on me.” 

“ Because,” she answered, looking into his 
face, “although I can never marry you, — never 
— I loved you, Egon. I warned you at the 
same time, you remember.” 

It was quite fair, he would listen to reason. 

His lip curled. 

“ You loved me,” he repeated in contempt. 

His tone stung her to anger. She had been 
willing to concede something. She had hum- 
bled herself in acknowledging her weakness, 
and he threw back her avowal with scorn. 


26 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“ But never so much that I could not have 
thrown you over for another,” she said with 
cutting emphasis. 

Her cold answer was fuel to the flame. 

‘‘ My brother Franz has fallen into your late 
husband’s shoes. Why not for him ? ” 

“He might do admirably,” 

“ Why do you say this to me? Why make 
me hate all women?” 

“ Nonsense ! ” 

The light died out of his face, leaving it pale 
and drawn. She was engrossed in tracing fig- 
ures in the ground with the point of her parasol 
and did not see him. 

“Very well, Hulda,” he said, after a pause. 
Good-bye.” 

The dull monotone of his voice hurt her. 

“ Let us part friends,” she said, holding out 
her hand. Her short-lived anger had died. 

“Friends?” he echoed with scorn. “You 
and I ? Before the world, yes ; but apart, no. 
I hope I shall never forget the courtesy due 
my brother’s widow,” he added, bowing low. 
“ But I shall never forgive you your cruelty 
to me.” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


27 


With these words he stalked off in the direc- 
tion whence he had come, but recently full of 
joyous anticipation. She looked after him 
wistfully, and half extended her hand to call 
him back. 

“ When I have done the work so well ! ” she 
muttered. “ He will get over it.” And she 
turned toward the house resolutely. 


CHAPTER IV. 


0 


N the road between Leipsic and Dresden, an 

hour’s drive from the old town of W- , 

lies Felsenstein, a large estate belonging to 
the ancient family of Kempen. 

The “ Schloss” is a gray stone pile rising 
from the ground like a castle in a moat. Its 
walls are bare of ornamentation. There is no 
portico over the entrance. Two stone steps 
lead to a massive iron door, over which the 
arms of Oertzen and Kempen intertwined are 
carved in stone. 

The road approaching Felsenstein is shut in 
by stone walls, which are broken by a high 
archway leading into the paved court-yard. 
Here a stately oak stands and spreads its 
branches up to the sloping tile roof of the 
Schloss. 

On the east side there is a balcony supported 
by Doric columns, which are covered by a mass 
of tangled vines. A beautiful terraced garden 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


29 


extends down to the edge of a lake, where 
swans move listlessly about seeking food among 
the rushes near the shore. 

From the garden, steps lead to the balcony 
by which one enters the drawing-room on the 
second floor. In the corner, overlooking the 
court-yard on one side and the terrace on the 
other, are Anna von Kempen’s boudoir and 
sleeping-room. Beyond, in the front of the 
house, are her brother’s apartments. 

Two doors open out of the hall on the ground 
floor. The left leads to the billiard-room, the 
right to the sunny dining-room, from whose 
walls a line of good-natured Kempens look 
placidly down upon their descendants. They 
have never been remarkable for anything but 
their antiquity. Some of their women have 
been noted beauties, and all of their men stanch 
supporters of the king. Beyond is a long 
garden-room with stone flooring and some ex- 
cellent frescoes. Through the pillars that 
support the balcony above one can see 
the stately forest, a background of unbroken 
foliage, on the farther side of the lake. 
The forests of Felsenstein have always been 


30 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


noted for their extent and beauty. Upstairs 
there is a great hunting-hall set with carved 
tables and chairs. This is used for large din- 
ners. On the walls hang trophies of the 
chase grouped artistically. Several suites of 
guest-rooms lead from this hall. They are 
often occupied by officers quartered at the 
Schloss during the summer Manoeuvres, while 
their soldiers are assigned lodgings in the 
village below. 

The master of Felsenstein was a grizzled man 
of fifty, tall and spare. Nothing escaped his 
keen black eyes. Although he played the 
cynic, at heart he was kindly and gen- 
erous. 

Felsenstein had been in the Kempen family 
from time immemorial. Formerly they had 
been Roman Catholic, but under the regime 
of the present baroness, Paul’s mother, who 
was a stanch Protestant, everything had been 
changed. She abolished many of the old cus- 
toms, among them the resident chaplain, and 
allowed the chapel to fall into picturesque ruins. 
Now she was an old woman living on a distant 
estate. Once a year she came to Felsenstein 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


31 


and set everybody by the ears. She still pos- 
sessed remarkable vigor. 

Although her strong hand had summarily 
settled Paul’s romantic episode with the fores- 
ter’s daughter, she eould never forgive him for 
his folly. There was a decided lack of sympa- 
thy between them, even after the lapse of 
years, perhaps because their natures were too 
much alike. Anna, on the contrary, was weak 
like her father. The old Baroness had no pa- 
tience with her. 

“ Let her live with Paul and keep him out 
of mischief,” she said with grim sarcasm ; and 
Anna, who often took her mother seriously, 
amused Paul at times by adopting her tone. 

The garden roses nodded in the breeze, the 
bees hummed lazily and wandered from flower 
to flower, while Anna sat under the trellis vine 
before the garden-room door counting her 
stitches. 

Near-by Paul sipped his coffee and read the 
morning paper. 

“Where is Hulda.^” said Anna, in a fretful 
tone. “ Breakfast is long over — you too are 
lazy.” 


32 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


“ I was out in the woods hours ago look- 
ing at the lot that Hans wishes to cut to- 
morrow.” 

“Well! There’s no excuse for Hulda. 
What with Franz and this wild girl who is 
coming — ” 

“ Franz is a sensible fellow,” interrupted 
Paul, looking up from his paper. 

“ Ach, Gott ! She may be an Indian ! ” 

“ Perhaps an Indian princess, in which case 
she might be forgiven on account of her rank.” 

“The natives are Indians, I am sure, Paul,” 
replied Anna, in protest against her brother’s 
air of raillery. “ I learned that in my geo- 
graphy.” 

“ My dear sister, you are behind the age.” 

“It is just like a man to twit a woman on 
her age.” 

Paul was silent. 

“ I knew something dreadful would happen. 
What shall we do with her? ” 

“ Leave that to Franz.” 

“Franz is devoted to Hulda.” 

“ There’s many a slip,” returned Paul, nod- 
ding expressively. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


33 


He finished his coffee and rose. 

“ The future will settle these matters. The 
pawns are set ; now to begin the game." 

The door opened at this juncture to admit a 
servant with his eyes starting from his head in 
fright. 

AcA, gnadiger Herr!'* he exclaimed; 
“ a droschke is driving up the hill, and a black 
woman, like the one we saw at the circus last 
week, is sitting in the box." 

Paul, they are coming," said Anna, ah in 
a flutter. 

“Tell the servants to assemble in. the court 
yard, Johann," said the master, somewhat 
severely. 

Although he ignored the man’s untimely re- 
mark, the servant felt the rebuke, and, some- 
what abashed, disappeared to carry his news 
further. 

“ Did I not say she would be a savage ? " 
observed Anna tearfully. “ Oh, that I should 
ever live to see this day ! A blackamoor with 
the name of Arnim ! " 

“Don’t be a fool, Anna! ’’ was her brother’s 
terse rejoinder. “ Come 1 " 


34 ODDS AGAINST HER. 

A droschke was driving into the court-yard. 
A black woman sat beside the coachman, as 
Johann had said. Her yellow turban peeped 
out from under a large poke bonnet, which 
made her an object of curiosity to the by- 
standers. 

Hardly waiting for the carriage to stop 
Franz sprang out and assisted a charming 
girl to alight. 

“ Here we are at last,” he said, extending his 
hand to Paul and Anna. “ So we have given 
you a genuine surprise.” 

Anna was speechless. Her eyes were riveted 
on the “ Indtan princess” in amazement. Did 
this bewitching product of civilization really 
come from America ? 

“ Have you no word of welcome for Pras- 
seda,” asked Franz. 

“Welcome,” repeated Anna, a sense of relief 
stealing over her. “ Why, she is delightful, — 
quite like the rest of us. My dear child, we 
are very glad to welcome you to Felsenstein.” 

She kissed the new-comer on the cheek 
effusively, and Prasseda thanked her for her 
cordial greeting. 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


35 


While Anna went to order a breakfast for 
the travelers, Paul walked with them through 
the garden. 

“ I am tired of your cities,” exclaimed Pras- 
seda, with glowing cheeks. “ Here are endless 
woods. One might almost forget that they are 
bounded. How delightful the country is! ” 

“ Where is Hulda ? ” asked Franz, as she left 
them and strolled toward the lake. 

‘‘Somewhere about. You did not prepate 
us, you know. I fancy hunger will drive her 
home soon. She has not breakfasted yet.” 

“ Do you think she will like Prasseda? ” ques- 
tioned Franz, anxiously. 

“ Do women ever really like each other?” 

Just then Prasseda came hurrying towards 
them, breathless with excitement. 

“ I have seen your Hulda,” she said, “ asleep 
in a bower.” 

“ Did you wake her? ” 

“ I left that for you, Franz. Come.’ 

When they .reached the hammock by the 
lake, the nest was empty, for the bird had 
flown. 


CHAPTER V. 


RASSEDA’S advent at Felsenstein caused 



1 no little comment among the neighbors. 
They had never heard of this new relation who 
sprang from the unknown into their midst. 
That morning, as they sat smoking in the 
garden-room, Franz told Paul the strange story 
of his finding her among the Adirondack 
Mountains. The child had won his fancy by 
her simplicity and unaffected manner, and he 
listened to his cousin’s adventures with keen 
interest. 

Franz had been tramping through the Adi- 
rondacks after finishing his business in New 
York. He had heard much of their pictur- 
esque scenery. By accident he got separated 
from his guide and wandered into a disused 
trail. A lake opened suddenly before him. It 
was near sunset and the wooded hills in the 
background were veiled in mist. An eagle 
hovered above the edge of a cliffy swooping 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


37 


threateningly down from time to time toward 
two boys who were climbing the chalky height. 
In the foreground, standing on a great rock 
which projected into the lake, was a figure 
apparently of a boy. On closer inspection it 
proved to be a young girl clad in a fantastic 
costume. She wore a short skirt and blouse, 
with buckskin leggins, and on her hair, which 
covered her shoulders like a tawny mane, was a 
little velvet cap with a visor. She called 
across the lake to the boys in a voice clear as 
a bell, bidding them beware the mother 
eagle, whose angry screams echoed weirdly 
through the air. Then she descended the 
rock rapidly, carrying a rifle in her hand. 
Franz followed her unnoticed until they 
reached a camp on the hillside, where a guide 
was sitting by the fire making a Jack-o’-lan- 
tern, and a black woman with the queer mis- 
nomer of Minerva was preparing the evening 
meal. The girl pulled off her cap as she drew 
near to them, and Franz was filled with amaze- 
ment to see reflected in her features the face 
of his dead cousin, Prasseda von Arnim. She 
went into the tent, and he approached the guide. 


38 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


who was surly and uncommunicative at first. 
He relaxed, however, when he found the 
stranger meant no harm to his charge, and 
told him that her name was Prasseda von Arnim. 
He had a quaint patois, and told the story with 
pathos. Some years before her mother had 
died in that very camp. They brought her 
there hoping the piney woods would benefit her, 
but old Max shook his head thoughtfully as 
he added : 

“ She went the long road, too, sir. We 
could do nothing to help her. Poor, pretty 
Miss Seda was left to face the world alone. 
She hain’t got no friends but 'Nervy and me. 
All last winter she lived in the little village of 

S , teaching in the school-house, but this 

summer her mother's memory sorter took hold 
on her, and nothin' would do but she mus’ 
come back again to the old camp for a spell. 
And here she is, and here we are with her. But 
it can't las' long, sir, with a pretty thing like 
her. She will go out into the world and leave us, 
I s'pose, and we can't complain. She's young 
and like a young doe. She can dim' ! Lor’ ! 
how she can dim’ ! A doe ain’t nothin’ to her,” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


39 


At this juncture the girl appeared. He in- 
troduced himself and apologized for his intru- 
sion, but the similarity of the names and her 
wonderful resemblance to a member of his 
family led him to suppose that they might be 
related. • She received him coldly. Her father, 
Ulrich von Arnim, had long been dead. He 
was killed in the battle of Antietam. She had 
always understood that he had relatives in 
Germany, but they had never lifted a finger to 
help his wife and child. She was bitter in her 
denunciation of her grandfather, and would 
hardly listen when Franz explained that they 
had no knowledge of her existence. Then she 
amazed him by stating that her mother had 
written to Ulrich’s father four years before, giv- 
ing him proof of her rights. The letter was never 
answered, her grandfather persistently ignoring 
their appeal. 

“ I have no relatives,” she cried, with 
flashing eyes. “ They left my mother to 
die in poverty. What did they care for us? 
We were aliens, not of their caste, but we were 
born in America, where no caste is recognized, 
and consider ourselves the equal of kings.” 


40 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Franz bowed before her wrath. What could 
he say? Could Uncle Heinrich really have 
been so hard ? 

*‘And would this not prove, my credulous 
friends, the story at least remarkable ? " inter- 
rupted a woman’s soft voice. 

In the doorway stood Hulda, leaning against 
the trellis vine, and toying with a bunch of roses, 
Paul turned his head quickly ; he had been 
following the narrative with intense interest 
and had not noticed her approach. Her words 
jarred on him. The child’s face had been so 
true. Franz started to his feet and advanced 
with extended hands. 

Hulda ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Soyez le hienvenu',' she returned, seating her. 
self by his side at the table and beginning to 
arrange the flowers. From among them she 
selected a half-open bud and pinned it to the 
lapel of his coat. She drew back and sur- 
veyed it critically, with her head slightly on 
one side, as if her mind were entirely engrossed 
in a serious occupation. 

“ There ! Isn’t that pretty ? ” 

She looked up coquettishly into his face, 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


41 


Her eyes were limpid and clear. They moved 
him strangely. How many times in past years 
had he met her challenging glance and felt 
the keen satire of her tongue. Once he had 
ventured to express his admiration. She had 
laughed, a sweet, ringing laugh which hurt him. 
He had not forgotten the pain. 

“ So you have come home again. Did you 
bring the little savage with you, and does 
she still wear her leggins and her tawny 
mane ? ” 

He could not bear her jesting tone. 

“Don’t, Hulda.” 

“ Is it such a serious matter already?” she 
rejoined, assuming a gravity befitting the occa- 
sion. “Well, tell me about her. Is she 
pretty ? ” 

This Franz found difficult to answer. 

“ Beautiful,” replied Paul drily. 

Hulda flushed. 

“What was her mother? ” 

“ A singer in the South. After the war she 
went North and died ultimately ; Prasseda 
says, of a broken heart, — killed by Uncle Hein- 
rich’s injustice.” 


42 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“ Poor woman. What a pity she had not 
had some of my philosophy.” 

Paul rose from his chair and walked slowly 
up and down the room. 

“ I had great difficulty in persuading Pras- 
seda to return with me,” continued Franz. 

She had some foolish idea about earning her 
own living as her mother had done. She was 
utterly alone, without home or money, and no 
friends but us, who are her natural guardians. 
I told her how desolate her grandfather was 
since his daughter’s death, but she was hard 
as adamant against him, a feeling evidently 
inherited from her mother. After much per- 
suasion she consented to come here. I was 
sure of a warm welcome for her at Felsenstein.” 

“That was right,” responded Paul with more 
feeling than he was wont to show. . “ We shall 
take care of her and prove her rights yet.” 

Hulda smiled, while her heart was bitter with 
anger at his interference. He was her enemy. 
Franz she could control, but this man, who had 
never given her credit for a good impulse, who 
opposed her even in trifles and sneered at her, 
he was her true opponent. 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 43 

“ It seems strange that her mother should 
have appealed to Uncle Heinrich in vain if she 
was really Ulrich’s wife,” she said musingly. 

She was busily engaged in tying a ribbon 
round the stems of her roses. 

“ I wonder why he didn’t receive her eagerly. 
You know he never liked Friedrich any too 
well.” 

No answer to these queries. The men both 
looked at her, the one suspiciously, the other 
questioningly. 

“ Of course the girl gave you proof of the 
story — some letter, picture, or perhaps a copy 
of those papers sent to Carlshohe. A mar- 
riage certificate, was it not, you said.” 

Franz shook his head, and Paul smiled from 
under his white moustache significantly. * 

“ They had no copies. Culpable negligence,” 
replied Franz impatiently. “ Who but a 
woman would have been guilty of such stupid- 
ity ? ” 

Ah ! ” exclaimed the Russian, pulling out 
the end of her ribbon and surveying the bunch 
of roses with satisfaction at the effect, “ I shall 
wear that with my white lace gown to-night.” 


44 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“ What do you think, Hulda ? ” asked Franz, 
drawing his heavy brows into a frown. 

“What do I think? That the silence is 
ominous.” 

“Uncle Heinrich’s?” 

“Of course. You are a dear chivalrous boy. 
You find a charming cousin on a mountain 
peak, and seek to rescue her from distress. 
You bring her here, and then you are in a 
quandary.” 

“There is no doubt but that she is Ulrich’s 
child,” he replied seriously. 

“ And you could hardly let her be a charge 
upon the parish for his sake. Of course not.” 

She turned to the window and motioned to 
Anna, who was walking in the garden with her 
pet poodle, an animal of mature years and 
little grace, whom Hulda in derision had 
named Duska (little soul). 

“Why don’t you consult Anna? She will 
advise you.” 

“Will you be serious?” replied Franz, 
bringing his hand down on to the table with 
sudden force. 

Her manner exasperated him beyond en- 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


45 


durance. -She cast an angry glance at him. 
Really, his actions had well earned him the title 
of “ the bear.” It would be trying when she 
became his wife, but he would have to control 
his impulses then. 

“ If you wish my opinion,” she said, with a 
calmness that contrasted with his vehemence, 
“ I will give it to you. I should not advise 
you to confront the Count with a scandal 
which he has chosen to ignore. Think of the 
Arnim pride ; think of the old women gossips 
in Mecklenburg. Rather let the memory of 
his only son rest untarnished. He died a 
soldier’s death ; think well before you stain his 
name with common scandal. His father’s anger 
might be unpleasant to witness. Four years 
have passed since the papers are alleged to have 
been sent. He would not have left his son’s 
child unnoticed had he received them. You 
will do whatever seems best, but I do not envy 
you an interview with that terrible old man at 
Carlshohe.” 

She took up her lace scarf, and arranged it 
gracefully on her head before the glass ; then, 
picking up the flowers, she left the room with 


46 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


deliberate step, and they heard the tip-tap of 
her heels on the stone staircase outside. 

Franz looked at Paul in silence. Her words 
had evidently impressed him ; there was a cloud 
on his brow, and for the first time he doubted 
his own judgment. A satirical smile spread 
over Paul's face as he noticed the change. 

“Well, what do you think?” questioned his 
companion, as he observed it. 

“ I was trying to remember,” he answered 
quietly, “ how long it is since our charming 
would-be adviser was a visitor at Schloss Carls- 
hohe in Mecklenburg.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


P RASSEDA stood by the window looking 
out into the paved courtyard. The 
branches of the great oak swept against the 
little panes of glass and screened her from 
the sun.' It was all like a fairy tale: the 
journey across the ocean, the rapid travelling 
over foreign countries where strange languages 
were spoken, — all passed like a panorama be- 
fore her eyes. 

Although scarcely more than a child in years 
she was matured in bitter experience. Her 
idolized mother had left her at that age when 
the daughter had most need of her fostering 
care. She had lost courage at last, and 
sunk beneath a weight of sorrow that over- 
burdened her. The last years of her life were 
spent in a little town among the Adirondacks, 
and when her strength failed they had taken 
her into the piney woods, to die. It was at her 
own request, for she loved those picturesque 


48 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


shores, which were said to be so like the 
Konigsee of her husband’s native land. Her 
death had been peaceful. She would have been 
glad to die had it not been for her daughter. 

Prasseda had educated herself mostly by 
reading books as she could get them. Accord- 
ingly her knowledge was varied. German she 
had almost mastered, because it was her father’s 
language. Her mother spoke it fluently, and 
taught her child to lisp it even with her baby 
tongue. She was impulsive and emotional, 
but her nature was held in check by a shy- 
ness which gave one the impression of reserve. 
This stood her in good stead among the formal 
society into which she was suddenly thrown. 
She was direct in speech, and rarely prevari- 
cated. Politeness with her came from the 
heart. Rather than wound by speaking the 
direct truth, she would evade a question 
with a skill worthy of a duenna of the Saxon 
Court. 

Her intuitions were quick and her sympathy 
easily moved. She had insisted in bringing old 
Minerva with her, despite Franz’s entreaties, 
for he foresaw no end of discomfort from this 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


49 


impossible personage. Minerva had loved her 
mother, she said simply, and Minerva must 
come. So she did, but their journey had been a 
kind of a triumphal procession, attracting 
crowds which Prasseda seemed to take as a 
matter of course. The correct Franz suffered 
more than any one else, “ ’Nervy ” being quite 
willing to show her yellow turban and white 
ivories to any one interested. 

At last Prasseda found herself in the home 
of her father’s people. Felsenstein was like a 
fairy palace to her. She was quite unused to 
fine people and fine ways, being a veritable 
child of nature, who had been moulded to 
civilization by a well-bred mother. 

She leaned back in her cushioned chair with 
a sigh. Minerva was unpacking the pretty 
things that Franz had bought in Paris on 
their way. A great wardrobe stood open to 
receive them ; there were numerous wooden 
pegs in its spacious depths. The floor was 
polished and covered with rugs, and the furni- 
ture was stiff and conventional. Above an un- 
gainly desk by the window hung the picture 
of a sad-eyed woman whose hair was combed 


50 


ODDS AGAINST NED. 


down on either cheek, lending to her gentle 
features an unnatural severity. She looked 
down in mild wonder at Prasseda’s advent into 
this quiet household. 

Adjoining was a little chamber with a small 
mahogany bed. Eider-down quilts and pil- 
lows were piled high upon it, and a small home- 
spun rug lay on the floor. There was a white 
porcelain stove in the corner, and some engrav- 
ings in black frames hung upon the walls. The 
only bit of color in the room was the red 
curtain at the window. Prasseda glanced 
around and returned to her sitting-room with 
a sigh. She began to feel a little homesick. 
Suddenly her eyes fell on a portiere which she 
had not noticed before. It roused her curi- 
osity. What could be behind it ? She 
reached forward and pushed it aside, disclos- 
ing an open door leading to an adjoining 
apartment, which was in great contrast to 
the conventionality of her own. Every- 
thing was in confusion. The prim order 
that distinguished her rooms was lacking. 
The sunlight fell through the open casement 
onto a great bearskin spread before the door. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 51 

The eyes of the stuffed head gleamed at her 
with lurid light. The bed was covered with a 
silken quilt ; the canopy was of satin and lace. 
Some one lived here ! the place was stamped 
with her personality. Yonder was a cabinet of 
rare china brought from Russia. A velvet rug 
v/as thrown carelessly over the chaise longue to 
lend it an air of luxury. Before the half-opened 
wardrobe door lay a morning dress of some 
silken material that had slipped from its peg 
to the floor. 

Prasseda peered curiously about, touched 
the silver toilet articles on the dressing-table 
with a certain awe, and looked into the 
polished dressing-mirror, wondering whether 
she saw her own reflection in its repouss^ frame 
or that of some fairy sprite that had trespassed. 

Suddenly her face changed, a pink color 
tinged her cheek, her eyes fell in confusion, for, 
standing in the doorway leading to the hall, was 
the woman whom she had seen sleeping in the 
wood. A white Spanish veil was thrown over 
her head. From under her mull dress a pair 
of red high-heeled morocco shoes, with silver 
buckles, were visible. She paused on the 


52 


ODDS A GAINS 7’ HER. 


threshold in surprise at the intrusion, and a 
swift change of expression passed over her 
face. 

Prasseda saw it and caught its meaning. 
“We are neighbors, Countess Hulda. Par- 
don my intrusion. The door was open and I 
entered. It was so pretty here that I lingered,” 
she said naively. 

Hulda threw aside her lace scarf, stretched 
herself on the chaise longue, placing her hands 
under her head so that the sleeves of her morn- 
ing dress fell back and showed her round arms 
to the elbow. 

“Never mind, child,” she replied. “Come 
here and sit beside me.” 

Prasseda seated herself on a stool, and looked 
long and searchingly into Hulda’s face. 

She bore the scrutiny well. 

“ What do you think of me ? ” she asked, 
after a pause. 

Prasseda colored. 

“Ah! Arcadian simplicity. You should 
learn better to conceal your thoughts.” 

Prasseda rose to her feet. 

“And yet Franz said — ” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


53 


“ Place not the slightest faith in what men 
say.” 

Perhaps you are right.” 

“Indeed! Mademoiselle Wisdom. Do not 
look at me with such large eyes, but tell me 
what our august cousin said.” 

“ He said,” responded Prasseda slowly, “ that 
you would be my friend.” 

Huld^ followed the course of a fly on the 
ceiling. 

“ How much perception he has, our good 
Franz 1 And when did he make these confi- 
dences ? ” 

“ When we were crossing the ocean, and 
look at the phosphorescent light in the even- 
ing, he drew pictures of Felsenstein, and told 
me how happy I should be here. He was so 
good to me. You know I never had traveled 
before.” 

“ The situation must have been a novel one. 
You have arrived — ” 

“Yes, but — ” 

“ There is a but. Every one bids you wel- 
come. Does the Schloss not please you, or is it 
that I have failed to meet your expectations? ” 


54 


ODDS TGAINST HER. 


“Oh, no! You are beautiful and clever; 
but,” she added with hesitation, “ you are not 
my friend.” 

Hulda opened her eyes in mild surprise. 

“ Not your friend ? ” she repeated. “ What a 
strange idea ! ” 

She rose from her recumbent position and 
approached the window. 

“You forget,” she said, in a changed tone, 
“ that your American ways are different from 
ours. What Franz has promised for me I shall 
fulfil, but I am not sudden in my friendships. 
Perhaps you expected too much.” 

“ Perhaps I did.” 

“ Don’t be fanciful, Prasseda,” said Hulda 
in a more kindly tone, passing her arm care- 
lessly around the young girl’s waist. “ We 
shall doubtless be excellent friends.” 

Her manner had changed perceptibly, for the 
child’s words had put her on her guard. 

“ Go now and dress. You must be tired after 
your journey. You will have so much to tell 
me about that wild country of yours, and I shall 
make an excellent listener.” 

She kissed her lightly on both cheeks, and 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


55 


lifted the portiere separating the apartments. 
Prasseda passed into her own room, and it fell 
behind her. 

“ Fo’ de Lord, honey !” exclaimed the as- 
tonished Minerva, “ where did you find such a 
beautiful lady? ” 

She pushed back the curtains and tried to 
peep in, but the door behind it was doubly 
locked against all intruders. 


CHAPTER VIL 


E gon made his way over the fields blindly, 
Hulda’s mocking tone still ringing in his 
ears. It was not that she had dashed his hopes 
to the earth, he might have expected that ; but 
the cruelty of her manner, the hard, uncom- 
promising way in which she had forced the 
truth on him without reserve. Why did she 
not leave him a shred of faith ? Why had 
she been so relentless in tearing the veil from 
his eyes ? The Hulda he had known was worse 
than dead, she had never existed. His beau- 
tiful Hulda was but a shell without a soul, 
her smiles but tricks to play upon credulous 
humanity. Had he really been so duped? 
The dream was over, and although the awaken- 
ing had been rude, it had been thorough. 

He had given her his best love. Why had 
she cast him off so unkindly ? Her words 
were not the result of misunderstanding; on 
the contrary, they had an unmistakable ring of 


ODDS A GAIN'S T HER. 


57 


truth. For once she had been frank. Then 
let him accept them ; let him forget that he 
had ever loved her. He was no longer a fool- 
ish boy living idle dreams, but a man with a 
future in which women had no part. She 
should find that he was made of stronger stuff. 
He would give scorn for scorn. 

So occupied had he been with his thoughts 
that he had wandered far from the high-road. 
It was getting towards noon. The sun was high 
in the heavens. Near-by a rivulet bubbled and 
sparkled, and the birds sang merrily in the 
branches overhead. He laved, his face in the 
refreshing water and stretched himself under 
the shade of a tree on the bank. 

They would be breakfasting at Felsenstein 
then. 

His groom and horse must have arrived long 
ago. What would Anna say when he failed to 
appear, and how would Hulda explain it? — by 
some clever ruse doubtless, he thought bitterly. 

What had changed her so? She had been 
in a different mood when she wrote that letter. 
Then his mind reverted to Paris and his strange 
experience there. If he had followed his 


58 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


impulse and arrived the previous night, perhaps 
she might have welcomed him more warmly. 

No; he remembered with a shudder, his 
fate might have been similar to poor Gordon’s. 
The hand had saved him. 

Would she have treated him so harshly? 
What manner of woman was concealed be- 
hind that white veil ? or had he really dreamed ? 

He looked up at the sky through the 
branches of the trees, and seemed to see the 
hand, with its glittering bauble, beckoning. 
Then it pointed towards Felsenstein as if 
to bid him retrace his steps. He looked 
again, but it was only a green twig on 
which sat a tiny robin. 

* From the bank where he lay the woodland 
path by which he had come from Felsenstein 
was visible. Horsemen were approaching ; he 
could hear their voices. 

Suddenly he started to his feet. Now all 
was clear. Franz had returned, and Hulda’s 
conduct was explained. He took up his cap 
and began to retrace his steps towards Fel- 
senstein. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


59 


Anna was sitting by the lake knitting a pair 
of socks for her brother Paul. She wore a 
large garden hat, tied under her chin with a 
broad black ribbon. At her feet reclined her 
wheezy poodle. 

She had been conversing with him on various 
topics, but his attention had wandered. Tired 
with snapping at flies, he had fallen asleep in 
the sun. Hans, the old gardener, was at work 
among the roses. Suddenly Duska lifted his 
head and listened. 

“ There, my pet, be still," murmured Anna 
soothingly. What has disturbed thy slum- 
bers ? " 

A large black cat crossed the path lazily, 
but seeing her natural enemy so near at hand, 
she promptly bristled. 

“Hans!" called Anna fretfully, “remove 
that monster. She is disturbing poor Duska’s 
morning nap." 

Hans stepped forward to obey his mis- 
tress’s command, but the obnoxious tabby had 
already betaken himself to more congenial 
quarters. The dog opened one eye to make 
sure of his safety, then emitted a series of 


6o 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


valiant barks, which his mistress found difficult 
to quell. 

“ Guten morgen^ tantchm/* sa,id a cheery voice 
behind her. She looked over her shoulder and 
saw Egon standing leaning against a tree. 

“ Poor Duska, ” he added laughingly, “ he is 
having a hard time of it. Well, how are you all 
at Felsenstein ? " 

“ How you startled me ! So you have come 
back, too. This morning is full of surprises. 
Have you seen her ? ” she asked eagerly. 

Egon sat down on the bench, and picked 
up her ball of yarn. He wondered what Hulda 
had said. 

“ You must have met her on the way over 
the fields,'’ continued the old lady impres- 
sively. “ I wonder what you will think of 
her.” 

Egon was silent. He began to feel embar- 
rassed. 

“ Don’t hesitate to tell me the truth, Egon, 
for I depend upon you, my dear boy, to give me 
,a disinterested opinion. As for poor Paul, — 
du lieber Gotti he has lost his senses. Franz — 
well — I have nothing more to say about him.” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 6i 

“The least said the better!” interrupted 
Egon, rising abruptly. “Yes, I have seen her, 
and I know all. Of course it will be a good 
thing for everybody.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” returned Anna in sur- 
prise. “ I thought you would have some sense. 
But it’s always so. A man is so easily in- 
fluenced by a pretty face.” 

“Yes, since the beginning of time. Aunt 
Anna,” answered Egon bitterly, and he threw 
her ball of yarn down impatiently. 

“ Egon, what are you doing? My beautiful 
yarn, for which I had to send to Dresden ex- 
pressly ! ” 

Egon was already groping in the grass to 
find the ball, which in his impetuosity he had 
thrown away. He brought it back a soggy 
mass from the lake, where it had fallen, and 
promised to replace it tenfold the next day. 

“ So you are satisfied,” she said, eagerly re- 
turning to the subject of her gossip. “ I am 
not so sure. Last night I dreamed of a cat 
with green eyes. It was a bad omen; and when 
Hans came to us and said a black woman was 
sitting on the box, I could not help thinking of 


62 


ODDS A GAIN'S 7' HER. 


my dream, and felt sure that disaster had be- 
fallen us.” 

“ Aunt Anna ! ” exclaimed Egon, “are you 
quite insane ? What are you talking about? ” 

“ Why, the maid, of course. Any child 
would have understood that.” 

“ Whose maid ? ” 

The old lady stared at him in speechless in- 
dignation. 

“ Didn’t you just tell me that you had seen 
her walking in the fields, and that her coming 
was a good thing for everybody? Now you 
pretend not to understand me. Everybody 
conspires to vex me to-day,” she whimpered. 
“ Nobody understands me but Duska. Come 
here, my pet.” 

She embraced the dog effusively, but for once 
her darling did not reciprocate her tenderness, 
being awakened rudely from a dreamless sleep. 

Anna disappeared toward the house with an 
aggrieved air, leaving Egon to ponder over her 
words. In the march of recent events he had 
entirely forgotten Prasseda, and he gave up the 
solution of Anna’s conduct as hopeless. He 
raised his eyes to the grim Schloss, which 


ODDS AGAINST HEk. 63 

towered before him. The windows were closed 
against the sun. The roses seemed to droop in 
its hot rays. The glass doors of the drawing- 
room were open on the balcony, and the steps 
leading to it were bordered with tropical plants. 

A crisp step sounded on the gravel walk be- 
hind him. If Hulda came what should he say 
to her? In a moment it had passed, and a 
young girl came into view. She paused at 
the steps and bent over a rose-bush. Her 
face was hidden beneath a broad, red hat, 
trimmed with ostrich feathers. Judging from 
the grace of her figure, she must be pretty. 
Doubtless she was a stranger visiting at 
the Schloss. He had not been told that 
there were visitors. He did not feel in the 
mood for new people. Suddenly she uttered 
a little cry of pain, and the dress which had 
been gathered together in her hand fell, with 
a great bunch of wild-flowers, to the ground. 
Egon advanced quickly, and stooping picked 
them up. 

^‘Are you hurt, gnadiges FrduleinV he 
asked. 

It is nothing,” she answered shyly. A 


64 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


thorn pricked my finger. It was a penalty for 
robbing the bush, I suppose.” 

He saw at once by her accent that she was a 
foreigner, and yet it never occurred to him 
to guess who she was. 

She looked up to thank him for the flowers, 
when her eyes darkened with surprise. 

Had this tall soldier already made an im- 
pression on her child heart ? 

“Are you «one of my cousins too?” she 
questioned, still looking at him in wonder. 

“ I am Egon von Arnim, at your service,” he 
replied, bowing low. “ And you ? ” 

“ Oh ! I am Prasseda,” she replied ; “ I 
thought you Avould know.” 

“ I should have known,” returned Egon, 
vexed with himself for his awkwardness; “I 
should have guessed.” 

“ I am not surprised,” retorted his cousin 
archly. “You know so little of Americans 
here. Why, Baroness Kempen thought I 
was black like Minerva, and you doubtless 
thought me a savage, too.” 

“You dazzled me, fair cousin,” quoth Egon 
with an attempt at gallantry. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 65 

“ Nay, cousin,” she replied, that were im- 
possible.” 

And she left him, doubtful as to whether her 
words were the essence of simplicity or of 
coquetry. 

The latter, he thought cynically, for at that 
time he was doubtful even of his own sincerity. 


CHAPTER -VIII. 


S EVERAL days passed without any unu- 
sual event to mark their progress. Egon 
had a spirited interview with his brother, 
and blamed himself for his shortcomings so 
frankly that Franz had not the heart to be se- 
vere, and paid his debts forthwith. Then Egon 
surprised him by asking minute questions about 
life in America and the chances of making a 
fortune there. Franz laughed. Egon was not 
apt to show much interest in foreign coun- 
tries. 

“ I have sometimes fancied I should like 
America,” he said, reflectively. 

“ Nonsense ! ” replied his brother. Stick to 
your spurs, my dear boy, and before long you 
will be a colonel. There’s more money lost 
than made in that adventurous country. Sharp 
wits are required, which you have not.” 

Paul was present during this interview. 

If you would like to go to America,” he 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


67 


said afterwards to Egon, noting the restless ex- 
pression in his eyes with anxiety — the boy had 
always been his favorite, and he wondered 
what troubled him — wait a little, and I may 
have a commission for you." 

Egon wondered vaguely what this commis- 
sion might be. ^ 

Egon had seen little of the inmates of Fel- 
senstein since Prasseda’s arrival. He had 
caught sight of his American cousin once or 
twice on the river rowing, but she shot out of 
sight when he drew near, as if seeking to avoid 
him. He expected to be ordered to the castle 
during the Manoeuvres^ which were near at hand, 
although the idea of being in the same house 
with Hulda and witnessing Franz’s wooing was 
unbearable. For the first time the sense of 
obligation to his brother galled him. Promo- 
tion in the army was slow and tedious. Franz 
had made his way without assistance ; why 
should he not do equally well, if he exerted 
himself ? He was standing on the bank of the 
river lost in these thoughts. He chafed against 
restraint and longed for action. What if he 
had seized the hand that night in Paris, and 


68 


ODDS J GAINST HER. 


looked behind the veil ? Would she, too, have 
left him, as Hulda had done? The wind 
stirred the rushes on the shore, and he looked 
up to meet a pair of clear eyes which were fixed 
on him in wistful inquiry. Their understand- 
ing was startling. 

“ Prasseda ! ” 

“ What troubles you ? ” her eyes seemed to 
ask. 

You came upon me so suddenly,” he stam- 
mered. 

“ I was waiting. My boat lies at your feet. 
You were in the path, and I did not wish to 
disturb you.” 

Egon looked down at the white skiff lying 
half-hidden among the grasses, and drew it in. 

^‘Come, cousin, let me row you,” he said, 
holding out his hand. “ I feel energetic this 
morning.” 

She stepped lightly in and seated herself in 
the stern. 

You shall tell me tales about Felsenstein,” 
she answered, “ while I steer.” 

Tales about Felsenstein!” he repeated, 
taking up the oars and pushing out into the 


ODDS AGAINST NED. 69 

stream. “ Tell me rather of your life in that 
wonder-land, America.” 

“ I can tell you of the woods, of camp life, 
and my quiet winters in a country town, but 
the busy whirl of which one reads, America as 
you know it, is a sealed book to me, while the 
woods are alike the world over.” 

“ And yet you are essentially American. 

I am what my mother made me,” replied 
Prasseda, simply ; “ she was my world.” 

The tears came into her eyes. 

“Tell me about Felsenstein,” she persisted. 

“About its traditions or its people?” 

“One must talk about people every day, 
but floating down this dreamy stream I would 
rather listen to fairy tales.” 

“ Felsenstein legends are commonplace. 
They would not amuse you. I will tell you a 
story, Prasseda, if you will listen.” 

“ I am listening.” 

The boat drifted by a bed of water-lilies, and 
she stretched out her hand to gather one. 

“ Why do you always wear those long tan 
gloves ? They baffle one.” 

“They are new to me, cousin. I weat 


70 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


them as a child plays with a new toy. They 
came from Paris.” 

“They look so fine.” 

“ Being fine is a novel sensation to me.” 

“ Take them off and show me your hand. 
My story is about a hand.” 

She glanced archly up at him from under 
the brim of her red hat. 

“ Tell me the story first ; for if the hand was 
beautiful, mine might suffer by comparison.” 

“ It was suggestive, not beautiful,” he 
answered, musingly. “ I saw it first in a car- 
riage window in Paris.” 

“ Ah ! this is interesting,” she responded 
with a sigh of contentment. “ Go on.” 

He looked into her eager face. Surely, she 
was fair and true. Above all, her candor im- 
pressed him. Once he had believed in Hulda. 
But now! 

“The woman was hidden from view. I 
could only fancy what she might be from her 
hand. Ah 1 I should know it anywhere — that 
slender hand with its glistening emerald ring. 
It was a peculiar ring — a snake set in emeralds 
and diamonds. It seemed to draw me away 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


71 


in spite of myself. The carriage was standing 
in the Place de la Madeleine. I moved towards 
it, but the coachman drove away. Just then a 
man who had been climbing a ladder over my 
head fell on the spot where I had been stand- 
ing, and was instantly killed. The hand had 
saved my life.” 

Prasseda hid her face in horror. 

Did you see it again ? ” she asked presently. 
^ *‘Yes, once afterwards when I was standing 
on the balcony of my hotel ready to take the 
night train for Berlin. A bunch of roses lay 
on the railing near my window, and the hand 
was extended to take them. I saw a shadowy 
figure behind the lattice. The hand was near 
my own. It had saved my life, and I felt an 
impulse to press it for the service, but I drew 
back.” 

“You were sure of its identity?” 

“ Quite — the ring was still upon her finger. 
When my reason reasserted itself I found that 
the train had left without me.” 

“And were you annoyed ?” questioned his 
cousin. 

“The train was wrecked. Again the hand 


72 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


had saved me. Many lives were lost. Perhaps 
I, too, might have been among them. Although 
I am not superstitious, I can’t help fancying that 
this mysterious hand is closely linked with my 
life. Recently, as I lay by the bank of this 
stream, not far from here, I fancied I saw it 
again.” 

Not here, surely,” said Prasseda. “ How 
could that be ? ” 

. “ It was only fancy. Still I am not surprised 
at anything. If I should see it, I should be 
inclined to regard its coming as a warn- 
ing against disaster, and obey its bidding 
blindly.” 

Prasseda steered under the shadow of an 
overhanging willow, and drew the boat up close 
to the bank. 

“Is that all your story? ” she said. 

Her voice had lost its eagerness. She 
seemed almost indifferent. 

“ I might tell of fancies I have had. But 
why. They are foolish. Better, doubtless, for 
me that I should never see her face, for the 
result would be disappointment. There is so 
little truth in woman.” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


73 


^'Do you really think that, Cousin Egon?” 
remarked the young girl wistfully. 

“The truer a woman looks the falser she 
will prove,” replied her cousin in a bitter 
tone. 

Prasseda stood up in the stern and caught 
hold of a branch of the willow. 

“ Have you lost faith in yourself ? ” she asked. 

“ I cahnot tell.” 

“ Only when you believe yourself incapable 
of truth may you be justified in doubting the 
world.” 

“ That is harsh.” 

“Is it not harsher to doubt mankind because 
the individual fails? If your faith is betrayed 
blame your error in trusting an unworthy 
nature.” 

“Who taught you so much wisdom?” 

“ The birds, the air, and the sunshine,” an- 
swered the young girl, laughing merrily, as she 
leaped ashore, and pushed back the boat into 
the stream. 

“You desert me ; that is unfair.” 

“ I leave you to your sinister thoughts, my 
cousin,” she called back from among the over- 


74 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


hanging branches, “ thanking you at the same 
time for much pleasure. Good-bye.” 

He heard her merry voice singing as she 
went along the path : 

“ What care I how fair she be, 

If she be not fair to me.” 

Was she laughing at him ? He was puzzled 
by this strange transition from sadness to 
gaiety, from the seriousness of the philosopher 
to the ingenuousness of a child. There seemed 
no trace of coquetry in her bearing. She had 
looked at him with sympathy, and drawn out 
his inmost thoughts, then springing ashore she 
had left him like a woodland sprite. She piqued 
him. 

As the boat drifted down the stream he 
saw Hulda standing on the bank. There was 
a smile of irony hovering around her mouth. 

Good-morning, Egon ! ” she called. “ Felsen- 
stein knows you no more. Have I driven 
you away?” 

“ Was that your object ? ” he answered. 

“After all, clandestine meetings have their 
charm,” she remarked, and went on her way. 


ODDS A CAINS 7' HER. 


75 


He clenched his hand, and the cords rose on 
his brow. Hulda had left a sting behind. How- 
ever, a morning with his cousin need not cause 
scandal. She had followed simply the dictates 
of her heart, in rowing up the stream with him. 
The blame was his for asking her. If Hulda 
should attempt to entangle the innocent child 
in her net, it would become his duty to pro- 
tect her. 


CHAPTER IX. 


RASSEDA tripped through the woods 



X smiling. Very different had the morning 
been from those when Max’s stalwart arm pro- 
pelled their skiff across the lake. The gulf 
between the old life and the new seemed very 


wide. 


It was more amusing to chat with a gay 
cavalier than to listen to Max’s old stories. 
What caused the difference? Was it the lan- 
guage? That sweet familiar du fell caress- 
ingly from his lips, although he was only her 
Cousin Egon. She could see him leaning back 
in the bow with the sunlight on his blond 
head. That slight red mark across his brow 
was caused by the cruel sword of a loyal Kam~ 
erad, Egon was proud of it. It was a mark 
of honor. She shuddered. The barbaric cus- 
toms of these civilized people perplexed her. 
It was a pretty story that he had told her 
She laughed low to herself, and pulling off her 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


77 


gloves held her hands high above her head in 
the sunlight. Suddenly she grew serious. 
Perhaps they might have suffered by compari- 
son. It was well she had kept them hidden. 
Poor Egon ! to have such strange fancies, and 
he looked so strong and fearless. But he could 
be led by fingers rounded like her own. 

She drew her gloves on again and fastened 
the buttons resolutely. A little frown ruffled her 
straight brows. She should wear them always 
in his presence. He must have no more fan- 
cies. The birds sang wildly in the swaying 
trees. How good it was to live and rejoice in 
the sunshine ! Wood-flowers peeped up among 
the ferns, the moss yielded to her feet. 

She stopped all at once and looked up the 
stream. What made her so happy? Her na- 
tive mountains were more beautiful than these 
woods of Felsenstein, the people equally kind 
to her in their rough way. Why did she feel 
no regret for these old friends ? 

At a bend in the stream the boat came skim- 
ming towards her. A wave of color swept 
over her face. He had eyes like Max, loyal 
and true. She could see him through the thick 


78 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


leaves pulling vigorously, the muscles standing 
out like cords upon his arms. 

Perhaps it was because he had Max’s eyes 
that she felt as though she had known him all 
her life. 

Who had made him doubt the world ? It 
was wicked ! It was unfair to doubt all w'omen 
because one had failed. 

Hulda reached the garden before Prasseda. 
She found Anna and Franz engaged in earn- 
est conversation, which ceased when she drew 
near. 

He looked up eagerly at the sound of her foot- 
steps ; an expression of disappointment passed 
over his face. He was expecting Prasseda. 
Had she seen her? Hulda answered with an 
assumption of carelessness that she was re- 
turning home through the wood. Without 
saying another word he rose and went up the 
path. There was something new in his face, a 
strange preoccupied look which she had never 
seen before. For the first time a doubt en- 
tered her mind. Anna looked up from her 
knitting, and noticed that she too had seen the 
change in Franz. Truly Hulda, who had had 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


79 


one husband, and might have had a dozen if 
she had chosen, should be able to read men. 
Did she think with Paul that Franz was in love 
with Prasseda? 

Hulda turned pale at the suddenness of the 
blow. 

In love with Prasseda!” she ejaculated. 

“ Don’t repeat my words in that unpleasant 
manner. You will wake Duska. What with 
the black cat that haunts the garden in the 
morning, and the loud talking since the Ameri- 
can came, he rarely gets his full nap, and the 
darling needs it.” 

Was the prize for which Hulda had schemed 
really slipping away from her? While she had 
been living in cloudland Franz had grown cold. 
It was not too late to reclaim him. 

They were coming across the grass together. 
His eyes dwelt upon Prasseda with an in- 
terest impossible to mistake. He in jest re- 
proached her for some fault, and she laughed 
mischievously. 

“There she comes,” said Anna, with an ex- 
pressive nod. “ What did I tell you ? ” 

A malicious thought entered Hulda’s mind. 


8o 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“Prasseda has been rowing on the river 
with Egon,” she said. 

“ Has he been here ? ” 

“ Not for a week.” 

Humph ! ” ejaculated Anna. 

Where had Prasseda met the gay young 
soldier. It looked clandestine, and these Amer- 
icans had such strange manners. One never 
knew what they might not be capable of. 
An Arnim, too ! She must not be allowed to 
disgrace herself. 

She received the delinquent with a judicial 
air, which Prasseda felt but did not under- 
stand. She had been rowing on the river with 
Egon. Was there any harm ? 

No certainly, although her judge looked 
as though a crime had been committed; but 
German girls usually found it embarrassing to 
be alone with men. Had they not found the 
situation peculiar? On the contrary it seemed 
quite natural. She flushed at the implied re- 
buke, and answered with a little defiant toss of 
her head, that American men were to be 
trusted. Perhaps Egon might not be flattered 
by Aunt Anna’s insinuation. 


ODDS A GAINS?' HER. 


8i 


But her pleasure was spoiled. Could he have 
thought her bold ? She had been too happy. 
It was always so. 

Afterwards Franz suggested angrily that 
Prasseda’s education should be left to him, for 
they would only make his charge unhappy. 
Then Anna rose majestically and left them. 
Her sensitive nature could not bear reproach, 
and men were so ungrateful. 

Hulda looked up at Franz inquiringly. 
She was determined to learn how far mat- 
ters had gone between him and this Ameri- 
can girl. He did not heed her when she 
spoke to him. His glance wandered out on the 
lake ; he was preoccupied. There was a tender 
light in his eyes, but it was not for her. She 
was simply his brother’s widow and his sister. 

“ I wish to ask your advice ? ” 

Her heart sank. A man does not preface a 
love declaration by a request for advice. She 
knew what was coming. 

“ Women understand other women so much 
better than men.” 

“ I don’t agree with your theory, Franz. 
Shall we discuss it ? ” 


82 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


But he ignored her efforts to turn him from 
the subject. 

“ Hulda, I wish to marry Prasseda.” 

It was out now. There was no help for it. 

“ Do you think she would be happy with me. 
I am rnore than twice her age.” 

An impatient answer rose to her lips, but she 
controlled her impulse and was silent. 

“ I have been thinking over what you said 
about speaking to Uncle Heinrich. Perhaps 
you were right. For if the papers never were 
received, there might be trouble. The poor 
child is not to blame for being thrown upon 
the world by mischance. I owed Ulrich a debt 
I could never repay, and she is his daughter. 
She has every right to Carlshohe. It would be 
the only way by which I could give her back 
her inheritance.” 

“ Do you not love her then? ” 

“Yes, I love her,” he answered; “I feel a 
great sympathy for her. I would do anything 
to make her happy, — but she might accept me 
through a mistaken sense of gratitude. I 
wish to avoid that. I must'" 

“ Why not wait until after you return from 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


83 


Carlshohe,” interrupted Hulda. His impas- 
sioned tone jarred on her ear. “ There is a pos- 
sibility that those papers did reach Uncle Hein- 
rich, in which case your pity would be wasted.” 
There was an imperceptible sneer in her tone. 
“As heiress of Carlshohe, she might regard 
your suit differently.” 

“ True,” he answered thoughtfully, “ I am 
going next week to Carlshohe on affairs con- 
nected with the estate. Oh, Hulda, you 
think me an old fool ! I see it in your 
face.” 

She strove to smile. 

“ A man in love is an irrational being. If I 
should tell you what I think of this quixotic 
plan, you would not listen.” 

She made light of the subject, and he was not 
displeased. 

“ I have implicit faith in your judgment,” he 
answered, emphatically. 

“ Then bide your time, mon cher'" she re- 
plied. “ Do nothing rashly. Woman’s heart 
is like a fluttering bird, easily snared, but often 
frightened by too sudden a wooing.” 

“ And yet, ” he whispered passionately, “ I 


84 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


think thou wouldst be wooed like the tigress 
by sudden mastery.” 

She recoiled from him. Whence came this 
change ? He held her hand tenderly in his great 
palm. One movement, and he could crush it. 
His eyes gazing at her from under his heavy 
brows were filled with strange light. He 
loved her, not Prasseda, but his awkward form 
filled her with repulsion. Should she ever 
conquer it ? 

She laughed lightly and withdrew her hand. 

Many times had it happened before. When 
the moment came for her to seize and hold 
him, her strength left her. She could not bear 
his touch. 

His impulse had been momentary. Her 
laugh dispelled it. He knew that his feeling for 
Prasseda was purer, but the long-limbed, grace- 
ful Russian had bewitched him. He loved the 
perfume of her hair. Her magnetic touch 
thrilled him. But she, with her fine intellect 
and dainty personality, would never think of 
him. His face was pale from the vehemence 
of his emotion. He had regained his self-con- 
trol. Prasseda, the pure-hearted child of his 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


85 


cousin Ulrich, was to be his wife. It was so 
ordered by Fate. He must conquer his passion 
for Hulda. 

She sat under the elm until the sun was 
high in the heavens, thinking of her interview 
with Franz. Her head ached, her throat was 
parched, but she did not despair of ultimate vic- 
tory. Regret was vain. She saw too late her 
mistake in allowing him to wander from her. 
He would not yield lightly, for he had a 
strong will and great resolution when once 
roused. His love for her was as strong as ever, 
but he had renounced her, finally. Formerly 
his pride had held him back. She called him 
her good bear and discouraged him ; now all 
her devices would not bring him to her feet, 
for honor was at stake. She had given seeming 
acquiescence to his plan of marrying Prasseda 
to gain time, but she must thwart it by subtle 
means. 

She knew quite well that Prasseda had met 
Egon that morning by accident on the river ; 
however, it suited her purpose to give coloring 
to this meeting. Why not profit by it ? That 
would be a simple way out of the difficulty. 


86 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Egon’s heart might be caught on the rebound. 
The girl was attractive. This she must admit. 
Could she bear it? Now that he despised her 
she loved him more than ever. She had thrown 
him over deliberately, but she could not con- 
trol her heart, and the thought of his loving 
Prasseda filled her with maddening jealousy. 
She might be capable of a desperate deed to 
frustrate the very marriage which she had 
planned. 

Franz loved the boy. He had a generous 
nature. He would leave Prasseda free to 
choose him if he thought they loved each other. 
He would even settle a fortune on them both, 
if she only managed the affair with tact. And 
should she lose the game for lack of clever 
scheming after sacrificing so much? No — she 
would be firm. Egon should marry Prasseda. 

They were talking in the garden-room. 
Fragments of their conversation reached her 
ear. Paul was protesting with Franz 
against his delay in seeing the Count von 
Arnim. What if he should die ignorant 
of his grand-daughter’s presence in Germany? 
At times Franz was stubborn: he could not 


ODDS AGAINST NED. 


87 


see the advisability of hurrying a visit al- 
ready planned by his uncle for the following 
week. Hulda’s opinion should not be disre- 
garded, but crusty Paul did not seem to think 
much of her advice. Moreover, it was pre- 
judiced. 

** Prejudiced — nonsense! It is clear and dis- 
interested. I cannot share your feeling about 
Hulda,” answered Franz impatiently. 

“ I made a discovery recently, Franz,” said 
Paul, “ which proves beyond doubt that she 
was at Carlshdhe when that packet arrived 
from America.” 

Franz looked surprised, but preserved his 
dogged air. He was determined to hear 
nothing derogatory about his brother’s widow. 

Egon entered while they were talking, and 
seated himself by the window after shaking 
hands with the two men. 

“ Recently,” continued Paul, I remembered 
that Friedrich wrote me from Carlshohe during 
his visit. I had sent the letter to Egon because 
it contained some reference to his affairs.” 

And I have brought it with me as you re- 
quested, Paul,” said Egon, taking the paper 


88 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


from his pocket-book, and handing it to his 
brother. 

Franz received it in silence. 

‘^Well, what does it prove ” he asked, al- 
ready on the defensive. 

“The packet should have reached Carlshdhe 
towards the end of August, i8 — . That letter 
was written on the last day of that month, in 
the same year. Read what it says.” Here he 
took the letter back, and read from it the fol- 
lowing extract : “ ‘ We have been here a 

month, and our visit has terminated unpleas- 
antly. While I am writing these lines, Hulda’s 
maid is packing. My wife has already gone to 
Rabenhorst, where I shall join her as soon as the 
luggage has left the house.’ ” 

“ I see no reference to anything but an un- 
pleasant episode in poor Friedrich’s career,” 
said Franz shortly. 

“ They must have been at Carlshdhe when 
the American letters arrived.” 

“What then?” 

“It simply justifies my idea that Hulda 
knows more than she chooses to tell.” 

Franz rose to his feet with an expression of 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


89 


anger. He turned to Egon, but he seemed to 
support Paul’s theory. He knew her better 
than either of them. 

“ Is this your only ground for suspicion ? ” he 
asked. 

The only ground you would consider legiti- 
mate,” replied Paul. 

“ What a scene for a tragedy ! ” exclaimed 
Hulda’s voice behind them. “ What is the 
matter with you all? ” 

She sat down by the window, and waved a 
large fan back and forth lazily. The air was 
very warm. The attitude of repression between 
the men appeared not to impress her, for she 
opened her eyes and gazed at them in childlike 
wonder. 

Da I disturb a private conference ? ” she 
asked, glancing up coquettishly over her fan. 

Franz approached her. She knew by his 
pallor that the scene had been connected with 
her in ;some way. She suspected it when she 
opened the door. He looked into her upturned 
face with anguish. 

“ Hulda, you were at Carlshdhe during 
August, 18 — ?” 


90 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“ Very likely. It was so long ago I have 
forgotten.” 

‘‘This letter from Friedrich was written at 
that time.” 

The paper fluttered into her lap and rested 
there. She did not touch it ; she hated anything 
that brought back her unsuccessful past, and 
his death had been a fatal blow to her ambition. 

“You would naturally have heard of these 
letters if they had arrived during your visit ?” 

He questioned her evidently against his will. 

She looked up in surprise. 

“Hardly! I was not in the Count’s confi- 
dence.” 

“This news, Hulda,” remarked Paul, fixing his 
piercing eyes on the Russian, “ would have 
made a great difference to your husband, for 
Prasscda would have superseded him.” 

Hulda rose from her chair and passed before 
him. 

“ Really, I cannot see the reason for this 
discussion,” she said, indifferently. “ There is 
a simple way of solving the mystery. Go and 
ask the Count von Arnim. He can tell you the 
truth.” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


91 


“ You advise this?” asked Paul, while Franz 
looked at her in astd'nishment. 

Why, certainly. The sooner the better.” 

She lingered a moment by the window, and 
picked a rose from the bush outside. 

“ Egon, the next time you come over I wish 
to talk about arrangements for the masked 
ball which is to be given during the Manoeuvres. 
Anna has left everything in my hands.” 

She stood on the threshold looking over her 
shoulder, in bold relief against the dark hall. 
Who could imagine that her conscience was not 
clear ? She had forgotten the serious subject 
under discussion ; her thoughts were occupied 
with preparations for a ball. 

Be sure and bring the handsomest officers 
in the garrison,” she added, gayly, as she closed 
the door. 

“Your suspicion is unmanly,” said Franz, 
after a pause. “ Hulda knows nothing.” 

“ Fool ! ” muttered Paul to himself ; “to be 
led by a woman, as fickle as the wind.” 


CHAPTER X. 


H ULDA preserved her calm while she 
walked through the hall where prying 
eyes might lurk, but once hidden in her 
room, behind a bolted door, she lost her self- 
possession. Her eyes dilated, her heart beat 
wildly with alarm. Could they know? Had 
those searching eyes of Paul discovered any- 
thing? No, that was impossible. She had 
held Franz back from this visit to Carlshohe 
through sheer cowardice. Hfe might have 
gone and returned none the wiser, unless 
perchance her secret should have been dis- 
covered. 

Why had she not urged him to go in the 
first place, and allayed Paul’s suspicions? 
If the Count had really found the papers, he 
would have turned the earth over to find this 
Prasseda, the daughter of his prodigal son. 
No; they were still hidden within the thick 
walls of the Schloss, where no casual search 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


93 


could ^nd them. She held her rival in her 
hand. Were it not for this heroic idea of 
Franz to reinstate her through marriage, she 
might still defy Prasseda. 

Why had she not destroyed that packet 
at once instead of concealing it? Surely 
the fault had not been hers. How well 
she remembered the night when she had 
abstracted the mail from the locked bag 
on the library table. It was not an unusual 
occurrence, for she was engaged in a Rus- 
sian correspondence which involved political 
schemes dangerous to her safety. Her hus- 
band was talking with his uncle on matters of 
business, and she expected important letters 
that night. It had not been difficult to force 
the old-fashioned lock. Her letters were not 
there, but among the newspapers she found a 
long sealed envelope addressed to the Count 
von Arnim, and bearing the American post- 
mark. Apprehension seized her. Those an- 
gular characters in a woman’s hand told the 
tale. Ulrich ! She had always feared some 
folly on his part. What might not be the 
result? Perchance Friedrich’s inheritance, for 


94 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


which she had schemed so long, might be in 
forfeit. She, must know the contents of this 
packet. 

It was very still in the room. The great 
clock ticked like the beating of her heart 
while she hesitated. A door opened and 
shut at the end of the corridor. She could 
hear the sound of voices raised in angry dis- 
pute. Some one might come and find her with 
those papers in her hand. Quickly she slipped 
through the passage-way to her own apart- 
ments and locked the door behind her. 

They had been Ulrich’s once, and opened on 
the terrace overlooking the lake. Here was 
fishing-tackle hung up over the doors, and guns 
in a case which he had used before his father’s 
temper drove him away from home. There 
were his books on some rude shelves, all ex- 
emplary books, although he was supposed to 
have radical tendencies over which he quarreled 
with his father. Even as a boy he had stolen 
forbidden books and hidden them away. The 
old housekeeper wearied Hulda with stories of 
the young master’s boyhood, but they were 
told to deaf ears. 


ODDS AGAINST HEk. 9S 

What was the dead young master to Hulda 
but an obstacle out of her way ? 

“ It was rumored that he had a secret 
place in the wall,” said the old woman one day, 
“ where the dear boy, bless his heart, used to 
conceal his books and papers from his father’s 
knowledge. Our old master was very curious 
sometimes, and was given to examining the 
Junker’s rooms for evidence against him. 
He was a clever lad, he was ! There was no 
catching him napping.” 

She chuckled to herself noiselessly. 

Hulda turned pale. What if the old Graf 
should take it into his head to overlook their 
Russian correspondence ! She questioned the 
servant carefully, but could learn nothing more ; 
so she set herself to work, determined to find 
this convenient place of concealment unaided. 
Every saint’s head in the wainscoting was tried 
in vain. For days the search seemed fruitless. 
At last, when she began to discredit the story 
as an old woman’s tale, she touched by chance 
a piece of carved scroll-work near the floor, and 
a panel slid back as if impelled by a ghostly 
hand. Within was a recess where some dusty 


9 ^ 


ODDS A GAIN'S T HER, 


books lay hidden, nothing very compromising 
to poor Ulrich’s memory. He had evidently 
forgotten them there years ago. Afterwards she 
made a bonfire of these relics, and cleared the 
closet for her own use. 

From time to time she placed her letters 
there, thus feeling secure against the Count’s 
curiosity. Once she met him coming from her 
rooms. His trivial excuse did not deceive. her, 
and she thanked Ulrich for his forethought in 
providing the receptacle for her protection. 
This evening, after taking refuge in her room, 
she drew the aggressive looking document 
from her pocket and hurriedly broke the seal. 
There were letters in Ulrich’s hand ; a lock of 
hair, a photograph of a soldierly boy in uni- 
form, whose identity it was easy to guess 
from its resemblance to Egon, two long thin 
papers tied together by a faded yellow ribbon, 
and a letter written in the same angular hand 
as the address. 

This Hulda opened first. It set forth the fact 
that the writer was the lawful wife of Ulrich von 
Arnim, who had been killed in battle during 
the Civil War in America. Nothing but 


ODDS AGAINST NED. 


97 


fast approaching death could have forced the 
writer to ask aid of one who had been so cruel to 
his only son. But she could not die and leave her 
child and Ulrich’s unprovided for. It was not 
right that she should be obliged to fight the 
world alone. Then followed a dignified and 
touching appeal to the Count for his grandchild. 
The mother reproached herself for her delay. 
Now that she was about to die, her pride was 
conquered. She begged him to answer her im- 
mediately, and relieve her anxiety before it 
was too late. 

Enclosed were documents to prove the truth 
of her statements, but she seemed ignorant of 
the fact that Prasseda would be heiress to the 
large estates of Carlshohe. 

Hulda read this letter to the end. Every 
line was a menace to her security. What 
would be their future if Friedrich were sup- 
planted ? 

She must burn these papers and scatter the 
ashes. America was far away ; the woman ill 
and dying; perhaps the pain of waiting might 
kill her. Hulda crushed the papers in her hand, 
and prayed in her fury that this might be. 


qS odds against jjer. 

Several closely written love missives, sent evi- 
dently by Ulrich from the soldiers’ camp, were 
among the papers. She could not read them. 
Their tale of love did not interest her. 

Steps were echoing along the passage-way. 
Directly her husband would be there and dis- 
cover all. He was not unscrupulous. It 
would not be safe to trust him. 

A paper box lay on the table, and into it she 
thrust the tossed and crumpled letters, placing 
it quickly in the convenient hiding-place below 
the wainscoting. Little had poor Ulrich imag- 
ined what use his enemy would make of it when 
he found it years before. 

She had barely closed the spring when her 
husband knocked loudly at the door and de- 
manded admittance. His agitation was so 
great that he failed to notice her embar- 
rassment. He had had the final rupture with 
his uncle, and commanded her to leave the 
Schloss forthwith, for he would remain no longer 
than was absolutely necessary under his uncle’s 
inhospitable roof. The night was fine, the car- 
riage was at the door. She must put on her 
wraps and drive to Rabenhorst, while her maid 


ODDS AGAINST BED. 


99 


would pack the trunks and follow. There was 
nothing for Hulda but to obey, and she con- 
soled herself with the thought that her secrets 
could not have a better hiding-place than within 
the walls of Carlshbhe. 

Not long after this Friedrich died. 

She had never returned to Carlshohe, and had 
almost forgotten the theft of the papers until 
Prasseda appeared at Felsenstein, but Fried- 
rich’s letter which Paul had read recalled the 
past. She could hear the clock ticking in the 
library at Carlshohe, and see the carved saint’s 
heads upon the walls of Ulrich’s room. 

Let Franz see his uncle ; he would deny the 
existence of these American letters. She was 
quite safe ! 

There was a sound of clattering hoofs in the 
courtyard below. A mounted messenger had 
just ridden under the window holding up a 
telegram. Something had happened ! Prob- 
ably it involved some trivial matter concerning 
Paul, but in her heart she felt that a crisis was 
at hand. She hurried through the hall in 
breathless haste. When she reached the gar- 
den room he had already opened the dispatch. 


100 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


There was a grave look on their faces that fore- 
shadowed bad news. 

The old Count is hopelessly insane,” ex- 
plained Anna in answer to her questioning look. 

She turned aside to hide her emotion. 

Schultz was called in consultation,” said 
Paul gloomily. “ He is rarely mistaken. We 
were at the university together.” 

She approached Franz with a look of sym- 
pathy. He was standing by the window some- 
what apart from the others. 

“ I must speak to Prasseda without delay,” 
he whispered. 

Wait until you return from Carlshohe,” she 
answered, laying a detaining hand on his arm. 

Prasseda bade Franz good-bye with regret. 
She clung to him as her only friend, and ex- 
pressed her gratitude for his kindness in terms 
that misled him ; but he remembered Hulda’s 
advice and was silent. Prasseda’s cousin did 
not appreciate his anxiety for her welfare. The 
thought that her grandfather could be ignorant 
of her existence never entered her mind. She 
was impersonally sorry for his trouble. It was 
as if some stranger had been stricken down. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


lOI 


Franz went away cheerfully, feeling entire 
faith in Hulda’s tact. Egon was coming with 
a dozen other officers to the Schloss for the 
Einquartirung. He was to bring his four 
horses, and had promised Prasseda many a gal- 
lop across the country, a prospect which thrilled 
her with delight and drove away serious thought. 

That night, on going to bed, Hulda called the 

Prinzessin,” as she styled Prasseda, into her 
room and strove by skilful questioning to sound 
her heart. She would miss Franz doubtless. A 
fortnight slips away so soon, was the philosoph- 
ical answer. What would her fair cousin do, 
if he never were to come back ? Prasseda 
looked grave, but replied that she should earn 
her living by singing as her mother had done. 
Hulda was seated on the floor, and caressed 
the bear’s head with her soft fingers. Her pro- 
file stood out like a silhouette against the red 
lamp which lighted Prasseda’s upturned face. 
She could read each varying emotion in the girl’s 
mobile features. Would she feel herself bound 
to mold her conduct entirely according to 
Franz’s desire? Gratitude for his interest 
would incline her to regard his wishes. Cer- 


102 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


tainly she would not oppose him unless princi- 
ple were involved. She had placed herself in 
his hands for a given time, and considered hina 
her guardian. The eyes of the bear-head 
glared at Prasseda menacingly, and Hulda, fol- 
lowing her thoughts, told her that Egon had 
killed the animal in Russia some years before 
and sent it to her as a trophy. 

' The \-oung girl lowered her eyes. 

“ He must be a good shot,” she answered. 

“He does most things well.-^He is an ex- 
pert oarsman.” 

“ Do you think so?” replied Prasseda, calm- 
ly. “ I thought he rowed badly.” ^ 

It seemed^ to Hulda that the young girl 
might be laughing at her. 

There was no evidence of embarrassment in 
Prasseda’s manner. She seemed entirely un- 
conscious. Instinct prevented her from show- 
ing her heart to the woman whom she mis- 
trusted from the first. 

Afterwards Hulda felt a sensation of being 
baffled ; but she must control her opponent or 
all would be lost. She had heard Egon ask 
Prasseda to ride with him next day, and had 


ODDS AGAIiSrST HER. 103 

promised to lend her a habit, as they were about 
the same height and figure. She must be a 
fearless rider. 

Alone with Egon ! How her heart revolted 
at the thought, and she prayed that a storm 
might arise in the night and upset their plans. 
She had felt the pangs of jealousy when she 
had seen them floating down the river in 
friendly converse. The idea of seeing herself 
dethroned in his heart was bitter. 

The sky was cloudless next day when 
Prasseda arose. The meek-faced picture on 
the wall smiled encouragingly, as Minerva fas- 
tened her habit with quaint complimentary 
remarks at her appearance. She seiw Egon 
waiting under the oak. He bade her hasten, 
for the day was fair. 

Hardly had she sprung into the saddle than 
they were joined by a funny looking old 
gentleman on a cob, whom Anna introduced 
as “our good Herr Medicinalrath Schmidt.” 
He would go part way with them, and she 
bade them moderate their pace to his. Egon 
muttered an exclamation far from compliment- 
ary to the “good Herr Medicinalrath,” and 



104 ODDS A GAINS 7’ HER. 

glancing up, saw Hulda’s face peeping out 
of the casement among the leaves of the oak. 
She wished to mar his pleasure. It was her in- 
fluence at work. 

Herr Schmidt’s espionage did not last long, 
for his sober cob could not keep pace with 
Egon’s spirited horses, so he urged him to give 
them rein. 

Oh, that chase across field and dale ! Was 
there ever anything like it in Prasseda’s exper- 
ience? She paused breathless in a woodland 
road, and asked Egon to give her water from 
the brook near-by. 

As he bent to fill his cup, he observed 
that they were standing on the spot where 
he had lingered on the day that he parted 
from Hulda. It seemed years ago. To-day 
his heart was light. He could laugh with 
joy at the sunshine. Prasseda had taken off 
her hat, and her hair came down and fell in 
masses below her waist ; her cheek was flushed 
and her eyes burned with fire. For the first 
time Egon was impressed by her beauty. 

Cousin,” said she, handing him back the 
cup, “ are you a pessimist to-day?” 


ODDS J GAINS r HER, 


105 

“ I am a dreamer.” 

“ That is more amusing. That tree looks as 
if a woodland sprite might dwell within it.” 

“ Perhaps there is one hidden in its trunk. 
One day, years ago — yes, it seems a lifetime 
since that day — I lingered by this stream, un- 
certain which way to turn — suddenly I saw her 
hand trembling on a branch of that tree. I 
looked again — it was a bird, which flew away and 
guided me back to Felsenstein. Perhaps it 
was a messenger of the Dryad dwelling in the 
trunk. ’ 

“ Ah ! Cousin Egon, perhaps it was. What 
happened then ? ” 

“ I met you ! ” 

“You are laughing at me,” she answered, 
somewhat abashed. “ What have I to do with 
woodland sprites ? ” 

“ Everything, for with a wreath of holly you 
might be mistaken for one now.” 

Egon passed his hand through a lock of her 
hair. She blushed and gathered it into a coil 
upon her head. 

“ I look very wild, but the breeze is at fault. 
What would our good Xante Anna say ? ” 


lo6 ODDS AGAINST HER. 

“ You forget that we are in dreamland, and 
Tante Annas do not form a part of our exis- 
tence.” 

There was something in his look that made 
her conscious. 

“ The bear you shot for Hulda was a mag- 
nificent fellow. I killed one in the Adiron- 
dacks last year, but it was smaller than yours,” 
she said, apropos of nothing. 

“ You ? ” exclaimed Egon in surprise. 

“ Why not ? ” 

I can’t imagine you with a rifle in your 
hands.” 

“ Do I appear so helpless then ? ” A mis- 
chievous expression crossed her face — “ See 
then if you can catch me.” 

She wheeled her horse before he could say 
a word, and darted out of the path up onto the 
high-road, and he heard the clatter of herhorse’s 
hoofs dying away in the distance. He mounted 
and followed, gaining slowly, although she 
held her own for a half a mile, till he dashed 
past and caught her bridle. 

You are my prisoner,” he said. 

A sudden desire to concjuer this wild young 


ODDS AC A INST HET. 


107 


Creature possessed him. How gently he would 
hold her'! She should never feel his chain. 

“To-day’s run has quite unsettled me,” she 
said as they turned their horses homeward. 
“ I have been strictly proper for nearly three 
months. It pleases Franz. It isn’t at all 
natural for me to be proper, Egon. You don’t 
know what hard work I have ; but to-day — to- 
day—” 

“Well, what about to-day?” 

“ I feel as though I had wings ! ” she ex- 
claimed impetuously. 


CHAPTER XL 


F ranz wrote from Carlshohe, that the old 
Count’s case seemed hopeless. His par- 
oxysms were violent and his condition piti- 
able. He wandered over the Schloss, called 
for his dead daughter Prasseda, and reproach- 
ing her for deserting him in his weakness. 
Hours long he stood before her portrait in the 
great hall and talked to her as if she still lived. 
Dr. Schultz had been there twice since the 
Count was taken ill, and expressed the opinion 
that he might live for months, although 
any sudden shock might prove fatal. There- 
fore the Schloss was kept as silent as a tomb. 
Paul shook his head gravely, and wrote his old 
college friend a letter, asking him to run down 
to Felsenstein for a few days, but he did not 
come. 

The Manoeuvres were now taking place daily. 
There were twenty officers at the Schloss, 
Egon among them. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


109 

One morning Hulda suggested that they 
should drive to the place of rendezvous and 
witness the sham battle from a hill near by. 
The others received this proposal with accla- 
mation. 

The previous day Egon had been on the de- 
feated side. The retreat had been made 
against his better judgment, although they 
were hard pressed. Of course he was not held 
responsible for it. His superior officer was a 
stubborn man of conservative ideas. At times 
his lieutenant’s impetuosity seemed almost 
criminal to him. He held him constantly in 
check, warning him that some day he might 
overreach himself. Although Egon chafed 
under this reprimand, he was forced to listen 
and curb his temper. However, he had little 
confidence in his commander’s military tactics, 
and hoped that Prasseda would not witness 
their defeat on the morrow. 

She was all excitement when they drove 
away. It was a lovely day ; the sky was cloud- 
less. She sat on the box beside Paul, who 
.drove four spirited gray horses, while Hulda, 
Anna and some visitors sat in the carriage 


110 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


behind them. From time to time Paul 
pointed out the beauties of the Felsenstein 
forests. There was an expression of calm in 
his bronzed face, and his eyes twinkled beneath 
his shaggy brows with positive good-nature. 
Prasseda felt the influence of his mood. He 
was thoroughly at ease in his own domain, and 
enjoyed nothing more than driving through the 
woods with his little American cousin beside 
him. 

“ Do you like this sort of thing ? ” he said, 
looking at her face, which was flushed with 
anticipation. 

“ But, Uncle Paul, it is so necessary,” she 
answered seriously. 

Egon has been filling your head with non- 
sense. It is only a relic of barbarism. Why 
can’t men live at peace? Cutting a man’s 
throat is a final way of settling an argument, 
but unsatisfactory. Now these men are train- 
ing themselves to be expert assassins, that 
is all.” 

Prasseda looked grave. 

It seems to me glorious to die in de- 
fense of one’s country,” she said, and he, 


ODDS AGAINST HER 


III 


remembering how Ulrich had died, remained 
silent. 

They reached a knoll and looked down on 
the quiet fields below. 

Some cows were standing under a clump 
of trees peacefully chewing their cud. A 
shepherd was guarding his flock hard by, as- 
sisted by two great dogs, who pricked up their 
ears and looked curiously at the intruders. 

There’s contentment for you,” said Paul. 
“ Little wot they of the battle raging near.” 
He laughed. 

“ How annoyed Egon was to have been on 
the losing side yesterday ! ” 

Yes,” returned Prasseda quickly, ^‘but he 
will win to-day.” 

How so ? Are you to be his champion ? 

She colored and looked away. A child 
stood by the wayside holding a bunch of field 
flowers in its outstretched hand. 

“ Would gnadiges Frdiilein deign to accept 
them,” said the mother, who stood behind her. 

There was a kindly expression in her heavy 
features that touched Prasseda. The calm of 
her life had been unbroken by sorrow. 


112 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


The gnadiges Frdulein'' dropped a silver 
coin into the baby’s palm, and took them. 
She loved wild-flowers. They brought back 
the mernory of her native mountains. 

Paul glanced at her shrewdly, and touched 
his horses. She came nearer to his heart than 
any one he had known for years. 

Just then they heard the bugle, and knew 
they were approaching the field of the Manoeu- 
vres. Long platoons came into sight. Among 
the trees on the hill opposite shadows moved 
about mysteriously. Occasionally a soldier 
would expose himself to fire as he looked cau- 
tiously out to observe the movements of the 
enemy, a white handkerchief tied around his 
left arm to distinguish him from the opposing 
side. From time to time puffs of smoke issued 
from the trees. 

Prasseda stood up on the box and leveled a 
pair of field-glasses to get a better view. They 
were now in full action. The voices of the 
officers reached their ears encouraging the men 
to resist the enemy’s charge. She swept the 
scene in vain for Egon. Onward they went 
in a surging mass, only to be repulsed by the 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


I13 

handful guarding the height. In vain they 
rallied and advanced, again to fall back under a 
raking fire. The officers’ voices rose above the 
din, shouting their commands in hoarse tones. 
At last, seeing that they must be overpowered 
unless reinforced, the little band determined on 
a daring sortie, and rushed down pell-mell on 
the advancing column. The lines wavered, 
gave way, then formed again, surrounding 
them with overwhelming force. Back to back 
they stood, fighting fiercely. They made 
a gallant stand, but they were struggling 
against fate, and the enemy closed around 
them. 

Prasseda trembled with suspense. Where 
was Egon ? A prisoner ? 

No. Suddenly when the tide was set full 
against them, a company of cavalry burst from 
behind a group of fir-trees on a slope some 
distance away. 

No need to tell her who their brave leader 
was. She recognized her cousin, and her heart 
beat fast with joy. This mimic battle was 
real, this honor hers. 

Encouraging the fainting men with cheers 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


II4 

they dashed on and attacked the enemy from 
the rear. 

Back fell their foes in confusion. Quickly 
the young dragoon had come to the rescue, 
violating all settled rules by his unexpected 
charge. 

Even the Colonel could not repress a smile 
of pleasure when he commended him in the 
presence of the whole battalion after the fight 
was over. 

He had saved the day. 

Left behind in command of a reserve force 
he watched the contest from a distance. His 
quick eye told him that the battle might be 
saved could he reach the clump of fir-trees with 
his men, by making a detour to the opposite 
hill and attacking the enemy’s flank. 

It was hard riding, over corn-fields and fences, 
but they did it and were heroes. 

Prasseda looked at him proudly, as he gal- 
loped past on the homeward journey. Perhaps 
he read more in her glance than she intended. 

He ran up the stairs that evening, tired and 
dusty from the day’s hard work. He met Pras- 
seda coming down. She was evidently going 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


I15 

out to tea, for a white cloak covered her dress 
and a white veil was thrown over her head. She 
was fastening her long tan gloves, and did not 
see him until he spoke. A vivid blush spread 
over her cheeks, and her eyes fell. She looked 
troubled and sought to avoid him. Upstairs 
in the hunting-hall, his comrades were singing 
snatches of songs and clinking their drinking 
cups. The light streamed through the cracks of 
the door and lighted the dark stairway. 

“What has made you unhappy?" he asked, 
laying his hand on her arm. Prasseda turned 
away her head. Her whole being thrilled at 
his touch, and she dared not look into his face 
for fear he might read her heart. 

“ Sometimes the sea seems wide, Egon. I 
long for my own home." 

“ Your home is here with us," he answered, 
earnestly. 

A peal of laughter sounded from the hall ; a 
door shut at the end of the passageway. She 
fled like a hare, and left him. He passed 
through the hall, where his comrades were mak- 
ing merry over their supper, and entered his 
own room. Was he really beginning to love 


Ii6 ODDS AGAINST HER, 

this girl, he who had forsworn women ? He 
opened his casement, and looked out over the 
lawn. The trees waved in the moonlight ; the 
water lapped gently against the shore. He 
could see Prasseda sitting on the balcony below, 
with her white shawl still around her head. 

He went down hurriedly to join her; but 
found that he had mistaken Hulda for his 
cousin. A feeling of revulsion came over him. 
Now that he had learned to distinguish the 
true from the false, he wondered at his former 
blindness. He leaned against the balcony and 
talked to her about the Manoeuvres. Yes, he 
had won distinction, but it gave him no pleas- 
ure to hear her smooth flattery. The scent of 
roses filled the air, and took him back to that 
night in Paris when he had waited in the bal- 
cony of his hotel. His eyes wandered over 
Hulda’s head to the corner of the gray Schloss, 
now deep in shadow. The window of Anna’s 
boudoir was dimly lighted, and on the sill lay 
the bunch of roses ; the dew glistened on their 
petals and their odor stifled him. 

A month ago you loved me, Egon.” 

Hulda’s voice fell on the silent night, dis- 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


I17 

tinct and clear. There was a world of reproach 
in its tone, but he heeded her not ; he was 
looking at the hand which stole out to take the 
roses. 

Hardly knowing how, he reached the draw- 
ing-room. Anna’s boudoir was dark. No one 
was there. He leaned against the window, 
trembling. The sill was still wet with the im- 
press of the flowers, but they were gone. Had 
it been an apparition, or was it an illusion of 
his brain ? 

“ A month ago you loved me," she had said. 
No ; he had never loved till now. 


CHAPTER XII. 


REPARATIONS for the ball went on 



1 vigorously. It was to be the great event 
of the season, and all the neighborhood was in 
a flutter of excitement. The military band 
from Grimma was coming, a pavilion had been 
erected in the garden for dancing, and the 
paths and woods were hung with Chinese lan- 
terns. The costumes had been ordered from 
Dresden, and kept delightfully secret. Every- 
thing was to be a surprise. Franz would not 
arrive from England until the following day, 
and Hulda had not yet perfected her plans. 
Everything depended on the chances of this 
night. Paul seemed preoccupied. He had 
been writing and telegraphing all day. To- 
wards dusk a carriage drove into the court- 
yard, bringing Dr. Schultz, with whom he was 
closeted for some time. 

Later the maskers began to arrive. They rep- 
resented every nationality and century, and soon 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


II9 

the house resounded with mirfh. Paul and Anna 
alone were unmasked, the rest of the household 
concealing themselves behind .various disguises. 
There was a Zingara who created much merri- 
ment by her skillful fortune-telling. At times 
her sharp tongue raised a blush behind the 
mask of some foolish swain who entered a tilt 
against her and cast doubt on her power, He 
got well ridiculed for his temerity. A Capu- 
cine monk stood in a corner watching a wood- 
land nymph, whose long reddish hair betrayed 
her. 

Out on the balcony two elderly dames 
were seated apart, talking earnestly. 

Have you seen the American ? ” one asked 
of the other. She is said to be beautiful. Is 
it not sad ? ” 

“ Sad to be beautiful ! A novel idea." 

Her beauty will but make her life harder 
to bear. Have you not heard that her mother 
was the Count von Arnim’s mistress ; a singer 
in the streets of New York ?" 

The woodland nymph stood on the thres- 
hold. She had come out of the crowd laugh- 
ing and joyous, when the night air wafted these 


120 


ODDS A GAIN'S T HER. 


words to her ears and froze the smile on her 
lips. Surely these women were mad, to talk 
such scandal. Her mother had been a lady of 
gentle birth, poor — who was not poor in the 
stricken South after the war, — but pure as a 
saint. Who dared circulate such reports about 
her ? She would run after these wicked women 
and denounce them as scandal-mongers. She 
felt herself growing faint with horror, and she 
was powerless to defend her mother’s memory. 
Could others believe this preposterous tale ? 
Perhaps even now the whole world was point- 
ing the finger of scorn at her. Where could 
she turn to learn the truth ? 

A crowd of revelers approached, following 
the gypsy, who threw back jesting words of 
prophecy at them. Although she drew deeper 
into the shadow, the Zingara’s quick eye dis- 
covered her. 

“ Daphne, do not flee,” she cried, drawing 
the attention of the crowd upon her. “Apol- 
lo followeth not. Diana will not protect you. 
You appeal to her in vain. The curse that 
fell upon thy mother followeth thee. To 
be wooed, never to be wed, like thy mother. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


I2I 


is thy fate. Nor will thy beauty save 
thee.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” laughed the throng of maskers. 
“ Here comes a holy monk to shrive thee. 
Daphne, listen not ; his pious words are but a 
snare.” 

The nymph shrank back, and the maskers 
passed on. Behind came the monk, whose dis- 
guise she had already pierced. She could not 
meet him ; her heart was crushed by the gyp- 
sy’s terrible words. She fled up the path 
towards the forest, and when the prophet of 
evil returned there was no trace of the poor 
girl but a long gauze veil trimmed with oak 
leaves which she had dropped in her flight. 
On she hurried beyond the sound of music and 
of gayety, where alone with the stars and the 
rustling trees she could weep unseen. She 
sank exhausted at the foot of an oak and burst 
into a passion of tears. Suddenly steps ap- 
proached her hiding-place, and she heard 
voices. 

Thank Heaven ! we are out of that noise,” 
exclaimed Paul. One can hardly hear one’s- 
self speak from the din.” 


122 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


“I have but a few moments more, old 
Kamerady" replied a strange voice. “ I must 
catch the midnight train.” 

“ And you think the Count’s case is hopeless, 
Schultz ? ” 

“Quite, as far as I can judge. If Prasseda 
were alive I might have hope. This restless 
longing for his daughter is wearing out his 
strength.” 

Prasseda stood erect and clasped the tree for 
support. They were talking about her grand- 
father, the man who had caused this cruel 
wrong to her mother’s memory. Had he pro- 
tected her, the world would never have dared 
doubt her honor. The evidence of her inno- 
cence was in his hands. Her heart burned 
with hatred against him for his injustice. 

“ He is very impatient of control, and it is 
difficult to get good nurses. I hope to find one 
waiting at the station in Berlin to-morrow.” 

Their voices were dying away. 

If her grandfather should die without speak- 
ing, the stigma would always rest on her 
mother’s name. The papers must be found. 
He would never dare destroy them. Perhaps, 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER, 


123 


after all, this was only idle talk, women were 
prone to gossip, her coming among them had 
been unexpected ; she would ask Paul, and he 
would tell her the truth. 

“ Uncle Paul. " 

The words sounded faintly, but he heard 
them and turned. She appeared in the moon- 
light like some spirit of the night. 

“ Uncle Paul,” called the sweet voice again, 
and he hastened back and lifted her from 
the ground. What was she doing there alone, 
wet through with the night dew? 

She rested her head against his shoulder 
wearily. 

“They are saying wicked things down 
there about my mother. We know they are 
not true. Oh ! Uncle Paul, tell them that 
they slander her,” she said through her 
sobs. 

Paul patted her affectionately on the cheek 
as if she were a child. 

“There, child, don't weep,” he said; and 
then added sternly, “ Who told you this tale ? 
Who has dared ? 

Prasseda explained that she had only heard 


124 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


gossips’ talk, and afterwards the gypsy’s cruel 
words confirmed the story. 

The master of Felsenstein exclaimed be- 
neath his breath : 

“I thought as much! The viper! ” 

Prasseda drew away from him. He did not 
deny the justice of the report, but seemed only 
angered that it should reach her ears. 

“ My grandfather could set it right if he 
were sane ? ” 

We hope so,” he answered, tenderly. 

“ Hope so ! Then you think the story true.” 

Paul cast a look of reproach at her. 

“ I knew your father,” he answered. “ He 
was incapable of villainy.” 

She had misjudged him. But it seemed as if 
the whole world was against her. She extend- 
ed both hands to him impulsively. 

“ Pardon me,” she said brokenly. “ I am not 
quite myself — I hardly know what I am doing.” 

The expression of sympathy in his rugged 
face haunted her, for it told her more than, 
words. She went up the path towards the 
house. The music and laughter hurt her. 
The Zingara was standing on the threshold of 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


125 


Hulda’s room, when she passed up the stairs. 
Instinct had told her from the start that the 
Russian was her enemy. 

* ***** 

The night was waning fast. Egon, in the 
monk’s disguise, sought Prasseda in vain. He 
had exchanged a few jesting words with her 
early in the evening, but lost her in the crowd 
soon after. 

He strolled through the park and gardens 
looking for her in vain. He must learn the 
truth that night. The suspense was unendur- 
able. His love would outweigh wealth if she 
had a true woman’s heart. 

He lingered by the lake ; the night was fine. 
If she were there he would row her out into the 
still water, as he had done that morning on 
the river ; but she was hot there. He was 
alone and wretched, because he could not 
find her. 

A light laugh sounded from the bushes near 
by, and a white figure, enveloped in a veil and 
crowned with oak-leaves, flitted past. This 
time she should not evade him. He followed 
her closely. Twice she had boasted that she 


126 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


was swifter of foot than he ; now he would 
prove the fallacy of her theory. 

On she tripped and disappeared under the 
dark pillars supporting the balcony. She 
had taken refuge in the garden-room, from 
which there was no egress save those guarded 
by his vigilant eyes. It was dark when he 
entered. The clouds obscuring the moon be- 
tokened a storm. Over in a corner he could see 
her white form moving in the dim light. 

“At last I have caught thee, Daphne," he 
whispered, and, bending low, encircled her in 
his arms. 

Her heart beat wildly against his breast, and 
her breath came fitfully as he drew her to a 
bench under the trellis vine. 

“ Let me go." 

It was but a feeble protest. 

“ You are mine by right of conquest. I love 
thee, woodland spirit. Let us return to thy 
woods and live in dreamland together." 

He could see her dark eyes shining behind 
the mask, and her unbound hair fell like a 
cloud upon his breast, making him shiver as if 
a serpent had wound him in its coils. 


ODDS AC AIN ST DEk, 


127 


“ Do not jest with me.” 

How sweet was her voice. It thrilled his 
heart. 

“Jest with thee. By the gods I swear — ” 

“ Thine oath will be registered, cousin. Think 
well.” 

There was a subtle challenge in her tone. 
She would hold him to it. Why not ? Had 
he not cast thought to the winds? She was 
his love, his chosen wife, in the face of the 
world. His arm should shield her from the 
gibes of a too righteous community. 

“Would you marry me under any guise?” 
she whispered, “ Oh, Egon ! ” 

The ardor of her tone made his blood run 
fire in his veins. He would have hazarded his 
soul’s peace for her then. Her head fell back 
upon his shoulder; her lips parted in a smile of 
triumph. Slowly her basilisk gaze drew him 
down to seal the compact with a kiss — when the 
moon came out and crept along the wall. 

A woman, tall and graceful, seemed to float to- 
wards him, raising a hand in warning. A white 
veil drawn across the lower part of her face 
disguised her features, but enhanced the brill- 


128 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


iancy of her eyes. Egon saw the mystic ring 
upon her extended hand, and knew that she 
had come to save him from some hidden danger. 
He took one step forward, his arm still support- 
ing the woman who had thrilled his blood but 
a moment ago. A sudden doubt crept into his 
mind. Some one was playing a trick on him. 
He stood in the moonlight and looked down 
upon her. Her fair hair had lost its color in the 
darkness of the night. 

It was not Prasseda whom he held in his 
arms, but an enemy. 

Quick as thought he tore the mask from her 
face, and disclosed the mocking eyes of 
Hulda. 

The moonlight died out and left him in dark- 
ness ; the vision had disappeared. 

Egon recoiled from her in horror. 

She laughed contemptuously. 

What has chilled thy ardent love so sud- 
denly ? It is so easy to trap a man. It re- 
quired but an oak wreath and a white veil to 
make you mad.” 

He heeded not her sarcastic tongue, and his 
silence enraged her. 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


129 


“You love//^r — her, an outcast without name 
or race.” 

“How dare you slander her!” exclaimed 
Egon, incensed at her tone. 

“ What right have you to constitute yourself 
her champion ? ” 

“The right every man has to protect the 
woman he loves.” 

She paused to gather the full force of his 
words. He loved Prasseda. He did not 
hesitate to tell her the truth without disguise. 
How little regard he had for her feeling in the 
matter. But now she had felt his passionate 
embrace, knowing in her heart that he mistook 
her for Prasseda, yet trying to deceive herself 
into believing she might still reclaim his love. 
That was over now. They were antagonists ; 
he bent on defending, she on destroying, her 
rival. Who would conquer? 

“You come too late, Egon. Your Prasseda 
is bespoken.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

Probably it was some new device to mislead 
him. 

“Franz, your benefactor, the man to whom 


130 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


you owe everything in this world, is to marry 
her/’ 

It is false.” 

This announcement struck him like a blow. 
Even as he denied it, he believed it to be true. 

“ He certainly has the balance in his favor,” 
the cold voice continued. “ Can you give her 
back the Arnini estates which are hers by 
right ? ” 

“You acknowledge this?” 

“ By moral right. No one would deny that 
she is Ulrich’s child.” 

“You tell me this to torture me. A month 
ago he was to be your husband. Must he 
always stand in my way? I’ll not believe it.” 

“ A month ago it was your own delightful 
suggestion,” she retorted. “ Ask Paul — he 
knows. It is an act of restitution.” 

“ These estates are hers by right,” he said in 
a tone of conviction. 

She stared and looked at him keenly. This 
was a new move on his part. Did he know? 
Did he suspect? She turned pale in the 
moonlight and shook her head, assuming 
indifference. 


ODDS A GAINS T HER, 


131 

*‘They cannot prove it.” 

“ It shall be proven ! ” he exclaimed, grasp- 
ing her by the wrist roughly. ' “You were at 
Carlshohe when those papers arrived. What 
became of them ?” 

He frightened her. He looked as though 
he would kill her. How could she be held 
responsible for the papers? He could prove 
nothing. 

Her laugh enraged him beyond control, and 
his strong hand closed on her like a vise. 

“You stole them,” he said, “and hid them 
away, but I will find them. I will search the 
earth over till I find them. I will begin at 
Carlshohe, where you stole them.” 

He felt her wince under his words. They 
had been hidden at Carlshohe. He was right. 
Then she was filled with a sudden dread. 
What if he should carry out his threat and 
search the Schloss. Better throw him off his 
guard entirely. Better, since he suspected 
her, and his doubts could never be dispelled, he 
should believe Prasseda’s claim quite hopeless. 
There were no copies of the documents in 
existence. 


132 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“ Where are they hidden ? ” he asked again, 
still grasping her with cruel power. He was 
unconscious of the fact that he still held her. 
He would wring the secret from her soul. 

“They are beyond your reach,” she said, 
trying to form a defiant smile with her white 
lips. “ Burned to ashes.” 

“You dared ? ” 

“ I hate her.” 

He flung her off as he would a reptile, and 
she left him alone. The venom of her tone 
filled him with horror. He believed her capa- 
ble of any treachery to meet her ends. He sat 
down on the bench and tried to think. If 
Franz were a suitor for Prasseda’s hand she 
was lost to him forever. Honor would not 
permit him to stand in his benefactor’s way. 
He must leave Felstenstein at once without 
seeing her again. That was the only way for 
him to preserve his honor. And yet how could 
he leave her unprotected against this woman, 
who was as subtle as a Spaniard. Franz would 
believe nothing against her. 

Those papers were destroyed, but might 
they not be duplicated? Surely he might have 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 133 

some chance of finding the witnesses to this 
marriage in America. He knew Prasseda’s his- 
tory as well as his own. He might be able to 
trace her mother’s life sufficiently to get proof 
of her marriage. There was no time to be lost 
if he wished to accomplish his task while the 
Count still lived. If he stayed there he would 
commit some folly. To live in the same house 
with her and not tell his love would be impos- 
sible. If he were working for her, at least he 
would not be so wretched. No one must know 
his purpose, for it might fail, and he must get 
away that night. 

All was still in the gardens. The candles had 
burned low ; the guests would soon depart. The 
wind sighed through the trees. The moon 
emerged from behind the cloud, and threw its 
rays on the wall. Surely the warning figure 
glided forth to meet his eyes once more, or 
did he dream. The light fell upon the upraised 
hand. Egon rose and moved slowly towards 
her. She seemed to recede as he drew near. 
Now she stood still. He stretched forth his 
hand to touch her dress, and it fell upon the 
cold stone. 


134 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


The vision was a painted picture on the wall. 

He started back with a low cry. 

How came it there ! He turned the gold 
frame to the light and read the characters 
upon it : 

“Copy of a family portrait hanging at Carls- 
hohe. Katrina von Arnim, born 1604, died 
1634 ; original by a distinguished painter. The 
property of Franz von Arnim.’’ 

The picture fell back against the wall with a 
dull sound. He had often heard of his ances- 
tress, Katrina von Arnim. Her beautiful eyes 
had been the toast of the North, where she 
broke men’s hearts ruthlessly. He remem- 
bered vaguely having seen the original portrait 
at Carlshohe when a boy. That trick of draw- 
ing the veil across her face like an Eastern 
princess strengthened the fascination of her 
wonderful eyes. She had succeeded in start- 
ling an Arnim, whose reputation for bravery 
was unchallenged. She had served him a good 
turn. Of course his superstitious fear was ab- 
surd. Alarmed by a picture ! What a joke for 
his companions at mess! He would not tell 
the tale. Doubtless Franz had sent it over 


ODDS A GAIN'S 7' HER, 


135 


from Carlshohe during his recent visit. He 
would question him about it. 

Then he grew serious ; he had seen Katrina’s 
hand resting on a carriage window and after- 
wards on the hotel balcony in Paris. And the 
ring ? he had certainly seen it sparkle in the 
sunlight ; his eyes had not deceived him ! Could 
it be that his fair ancestress was haunting him? 
Certainly the discovery of this picture strength- 
ened the mystery. He had read of such things. 
A friend of his had been warned of his death 
by an uncanny sign which was customary in 
their family. He had never heard that the 
Arnims possessed a family ghost. At least 
it was reserved for him to discover it. 

Although he tried to reason himself into a 
commonplace frame of mind, he could not shake 
off the influence this strange specter had had 
upon him. She had saved his life twice, but 
now she had saved his honor. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


D O we not all know, when grief sweeps over 
us, how music hurts and laughter echoing 
through an open window cuts like the knife 
of an enemy ? Prasseda buried her face in 
her pillow and tried to shut out the sound. 
They were playing an old German waltz, 
which brought back memories of her home. 
Why had she ever left it ? Those rude people 
who had seen her mother die, knew that she 
was true. Her own beauty was a snare, so 
the gossips had said. No one respected her. 
Some had pitied, but others scorned her. Paul 
looked at her with sorrow. Even he could 
find no answer to her questions. And Egon ; 
did he believe it, too? How could she blame 
their doubts, since there was nothing to sup- 
port her word ? 

The world was pitiless. 

She had wept her heart dry. There were 
no more tears to shed. She could not stay 


ODDS A GAINS ’r HER. 


137 


another hour beneath that roof. How could 
she meet their curious faces in the morning ? 
They had doubted from the first ; she alone 
had been unconscious and blind. She pressed 
her hands to her throbbing temples and tried 
to concentrate her thoughts. What should 
she do } Her grandfather could help her, but 
he was insane. Suddenly she started up struck 
by a new idea. The doctor had said there 
might be hope for him if Prasseda were alive. 
And she resembled this sister of her father. 
Franz had recognized her by this wonderful 
likeness. Why might she not go to Mecklen- 
burg as his nurse? Stranger things had hap- 
pened. She was not afraid, and Minerva 
would protect her. The doctor expected to 
meet a woman at the station in Berlin. Why 
could she not impersonate the woman ? A 
little management might be necessary. It was 
a desperate chance. She could take Minerva 
and leave by the morning train. No one 
would know where she had gone. If her plan 
failed, it would be a simple matter to follow 
the doctor to Mecklenburg. He need not 
know her secret unless he refused to take her 


138 ODDS A GAINS?' HER. 

with him. Then her resemblance to Prasseda 
would stand her in good stead. 

Stifling her sobs, she roused Minerva, wdio 
started at her mistress’s appearance. 

“ Mammy, don’t talk to me, but do as I 
bid.” 

The negress nodded her head, eagerly. 

“ Pack what is absolutely necessary in a 
hand-bag and prepare to leave with me,” she 
said wearily. 

Minerva did not question, but obeyed blindly. 
Missy was in trouble, and she would follow her 
wherever she led. Perhaps back again to the 
good old home among the mountains. 

She crept noiselessly round puttingthe things 
together, while her mistress sat before the 
writing-table trying to write Franz a few words. 
Perhaps he would misjudge her, but she must 
run the risk. He had been kind to her. 
Out of kindness he might hold her back from 
an undertaking which seemed wild. No, she 
would give him no explanation. She must act 
entirely on her own responsibility. 

Her tears fell on the paper and blotted its 
surface. She dried her eyes and tore up many 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


139 


sheets before she was satisfied. At last she 
finished these hastily scrawled lines: 

“ I am going away, dear Franz. Forgive me. 
Perhaps I have illy repaid your goodness, but 
I could not stay, knowing the truth. Do not 
seek to follow me, I beg of you. It will be 
useless. Some day you may understand. 

“ Prasseda." 

She folded, sealed and addressed the note, 
then left it in a conspicuous place on her desk. 
It was vague enough to mislead him, but she 
must be alone and untrammeled. Minerva 
touched her arm. All was ready. Quietly 
they stole down the stairs out into the garden. 
The day was beginning to dawn and the moist 
air revived her. As she passed Paul’s study 
she saw that his window was open. The light- 
was out. Probably he slept. 

Taking a bunch of violets from her dress, 
she wrote two words on a card and fastened 
it to the stems, then laid it gently on his desk 
through the open window. 

He must not think ill of her. 

They took the short path over the fields to the 
station, and arrived just before the train was 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


140 

due. There was another passenger pacing 
impatiently up and down the platform. 

Prasseda drew her veil closer over her tear- 
stained face, for she had recognized Dr. Schultz, 
who had been belated and had missed the early 
train. 

The express whistled into the station. She 
entered a second-class Darnen Coup^, followed 
by Minerva, while the doctor settled himself 
comfortably in a smoking coach, little guessing 
the proximity of his would-be nurse and her 
companion. 

When they reached Berlin, Prasseda bade 
her maid wait in an inner room, while she pro- 
ceeded to put her plan into execution. 

Fate had made it easy for her. The nurse, 
tired of waiting, had left the station. The doc- 
tor walked up and down restlessly, looking 
at his watch from time to time. Evidently the 
person he expected had failed to receive his 
telegram. 

In a few minutes he must leave, and without 
his attendant ; it was most provoking. 

Suddenly a sweet voice accosted him. 

Was he looking for a nurse to go with him 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


141 


to Mecklenburg ? He lost his impatient frown, 
although this slender veiled figure looked 
little like a professional nurse to his experi- 
enced eye. 

In the dim light of the station her face 
looked familiar, but when she threw back her 
veil he was fairly startled. It was as though the 
original of that picture which hung in the old 
Count’s study stood before him. 

She noticed his perturbed expression. 

What is your name ? ” he asked. 

“ Miss Simons.” 

“Ah! English?” 

She let the query pass. 

“ Have you had experience with insane 
patients ? ” 

She repressed a shudder at the question. 

“ I will be frank. Doctor. I have had little 
experience in nursing. You would find me 
willing.” Her voice trembled. 

The great hand on the clock moved slowly 
around. But ten minutes more were left. 

“ I suppose the woman I expected sent you 
in her place. It was a strange idea to give such 
a charge to one of so little experience.” 


142 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


He hesitated ; there must be some mystery 
here, and yet he could trust the girl. She looked 
honest. There was no time to seek references 
just now. This remarkable likeness to the 
Count’s dead daughter might prove of service, 
even to outweighing her lack of knowledge. 
It puzzled him nevertheless. 

You are ready?” he asked abruptly. 

“ Quite.” 

“ The train leaves in ten minutes. I will join 
you here.” 

And then, like a man who had been relieved 
of a great anxiety, he walked away. 

Prasseda waited until he was out of sight ; 
then called Minerva from the inner room. 
Taking a card from her case, she wrote hastily 
a few words and handed it to her faithful 
servant. 

“ Mammy, I am going to leave you for a little 
while. Don’t say a word, but listen. Go to 
this address and you will find Miss Russell, 
who crossed on the steamer with us to Havre, 
you remember. Give her this card, and she 
will keep you until I write. It may be weeks. 
Mammy, but wait patiently. My happiness 


ODDS AGAIN S7' HER. 


143 


depends upon your following my orders ex- 
plicitly.” 

“ God bless you, Miss Seda,” exclaimed 
honest Minerva, the tears streaming down 
her wrinkled black cheeks. “ Yer can trust me, 
honey.” 

Prasseda had only time to call a commis- 
sionaire, and give the servant into his charge, 
when Dr. Schultz reappeared and called her to 
take the train. 

She followed him and entered the car- 
riage mechanically. The door shut to with 
a sharp click. She had not yet rallied from 
the shock that had stricken her down. She 
saw the Zingara’s face always before her, 
and her mocking laugh rang in her ears. She 
leaned her head against the cushions of the 
coup^; the wind swept in through the open 
window, but she did not heed it. The doctor 
spoke, and she answered dreamily. He felt 
her pulse with business-like precision, and drew 
a shawl around her shoulders. He was a cold, 
practical man, who was interested in an experi- 
ment. His assistant had evidently received 
some mental shock, which she had self-control 


144 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


enough to overcome. He realized that much 
of his success might depend upon her nerve. 
She uttered no cry and gave no sign, although 
she was suffering. It looked well for the 
future. 

The train slowly slackened its speed. Pras- 
seda looked out wearily, but could distinguish 
nothing in the darkness. The doctor roused 
himself with a start, looked sharply at his 
companion, and called to the guard to open 
the door. They were the only passengers to 
descend ; the train sped on quickly, leaving 
Prasseda with a redoubled sense of loneliness. 
The autumn wind whistled through the de-. 
serted station, and the windows rattled drearily. 

After driving some distance along the sea- 
coast, they turned into a road where the 
wheels rolled noiselessly over the soft earth. 
Trees flew past like specters, till the lights of 
Schloss Carlshohe glimmered near at hand. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


W HEN the sun rose next morning at Fel- 
senstein, sparrows were chirping in the 
branches of the oak before Prasseda’s window, 
and beating their bills against the casement 
where she was wortt to feed them. All was silent 
within ; even Minerva’s good-natured face was 
missing. Hulda listened for some sign of life in 
the Schloss. The recollection of the evening just 
past was like a nightmare. She could sleep no 
more. Tossing off the silken quilt, she stepped 
softly from her bed and listened at Prasseda’s 
door. Evidently she still slept soundly. Well 
for her that she could forget her troubles so 
easily ; and yet her words had rained upon her 
like blows. What power the Zingara’s mask 
had lent her ! She lifted the portiere quietly 
and opened the door. Prasseda was not there. 
Everything was in confusion. Dresses and 
trinkets were tossed about as though the north 
wind had blown in on them during the night. 


146 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


A housemaid was standing before the open 
wardrobe gazing in dismay at the disorder. 

She told Hulda that Prasseda had not slept 
in her bed, and the black woman was nowhere 
to be found. The first thing that caught Hulda’s 
eye was the little note on the dressing-table, 
which she quickly abstracted unnoticed by the 
servant. Hurrying back to her room, she 
broke the seal and mastered its contents. 
She read her triumph in every line, and could 
hardly refrain from an exclamation of joy. 

Prasseda, overcome with shame, had fled 
the house. So much the better. Perhaps she 
had drowned herself in the lake. 

Dressing herself hastily, she descended the 
stone stairs to the garden, where Anna, armed 
with a large pair of shears, was cutting roses. 

“ Up so early?” said Anna in surprise. “ I 
hardly expected to see you for hours. I 
declare, the maskers so upset my nerves that I 
thought I should be ill for a week. Although 
the poor officers danced all night they went off 
to the Manoeuvres just the same at daybreak.’’ 
Evidently Xante Anna was still unaware of 
Prasseda’s flight. 


ODDS A GAINS 2' HER. 147 

‘‘All except Egon.” ^ 

Hulda started. She had been betrayed 
through anger into revealing things much 
better hidden. And yet what harm could he 
do her? He could not prove her guilt. It 
was much better for him to learn once for all 
the futility of this American girl’s claim. 

“ I wonder,” remarked Anna, as she cut a red 
rose from the bush, “ where Egon was going ? 
He wore a dark cloak over his uniform, and he 
looked wild and excited. He kissed me twice. 
Hulda, something unusual must have hap- 
pened.” 

Hulda laughed. 

“ Because of his sudden accession of tender- 
ness ? 

“ ‘ Where are you going at this time of 
night ? ’ said I. 

“ ‘ To the Antipodes, Tante^ said he. 

“ Now, I wonder if his regiment could have 
been ordered to this heathen place. It isn’t 
often that I have an impression, Hulda. Mark 
my words, something has happened.” 

After delivering the foregoing with stately 
impressiveness she picked up her shears and 


148 


ODDS AGAINST' HER. 


entered the house. Directly afterwards she 
called Hulda in to pour Paul’s coffee, as the 
housekeeper had sent her an urgent message, 
to which she must attend immediately. 

Hulda found Franz in the breakfast-room. 
He had arrived by early train, and mounted the 
stairs softly for fear of disturbing her morning 
slumbers. He sat down at the table beside 
her, and spoke of his visit at Carlshohe. How 
changed his uncle was ! He could hear noth- 
ing of the papers, for they were nowhere to be 
found. Hulda shrugged her shoulders expres- 
sively. 

They talked about the ball. It had been a 
brilliant success, and, of course, she had been 
charming. At last he asked for Prasseda. 
Where was she? How did she look? His 
time of probation had seemed interminably 
Jong. Hulda tried to turn him from the 
subject; but he rebelled. He was burning 
to hear all that happened since he 'left. It 
was cruel to keep him in suspense any 
longer. 

Hulda was silent. His suspicions were at 
once aroused. 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


149 


Suddenly they were startled by a prolonged 
scream from the upper rooms. 

“Great Heavens!” he exclaimed. “Has 
every one in Felsenstein gone crazy?” 

Anna threw open the door and sank breath- 
less on the sofa. 

“ Prasseda ! ” she gasped. “ Give me some 
water, quick. I shall faint I Prasseda ! ” 

“ Where is she ? ” said Franz. 

“ Don’t ask me. She has disappeared — run 
away. Her bed had not been slept in. I am 
not responsible for your wild American girls. 
I was always kind to her, I am sure. What 
have I done that this should happen here at 
Felsenstein? What will everybody say ? Oh! 
Franz, Franz, why did you bring her here to 
disgrace us all ? ” she cried, bursting into 
tears. 

Franz seized her by the arm and tried to 
shake some reason into her befuddled brain. 

His forced calmness was more terrible than 
passion. 

“ Do you mean that she has left this house 
alone? You must find her and bring her 
back.” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


150 

“ The black woman went with her ! ” 

“There must be some reason for this sud- 
den departure. Tell me the truth. What 
have you done to drive her away? ” 

Anna shrank back from his anger and began 
to cry. Hulda looked on unmoved. 

“ Egon must help me.” 

“ Egon too is gone,” answered Anna. 

“Gone! Where?” 

“Oh! horrible suspicion,” she exclaimed, 
holding up her hands in fright at the thought, 
“What if they should have gone together! ” 

“Together! Anna!” cried Franz, turning 
white with passion, “what are you saying?” 

“This comes of allowing American free man- 
ners to reign unchecked at Felsenstein. What 
is the natural result of their everlasting row- 
ing and riding together? Mischief, of course. 
I am an old woman, I know nothing. I must 
leave her education to you forsooth. I have 
narrow views. Very well, I hope you are satis- 
fied.” 

The words poured like a torrent from her 
lips. Franz seemed too stunned to heed them. 
He rang the bell and inquired the hour of 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


151 

Egon’s departure. One of his horses was still 
there and at the gnddiger Herr’s disposal. 

Franz ordered the servant to have it saddled 
at once. He was going to Grimma. His 
brother should refute the lie. 

All day long they waited for his return. 
Anna had been walking aimlessly about be- 
moaning her fate, but Hulda put her on her 
guard. They must avoid scandal at any cost. 
Paul had driven to a distant part of the 
estate to see some timber which was ready 
for cutting, and was still ignorant of the ex- 
citem'ent at the Schloss. Hulda was possessed 
by the demon of jealousy. They had escaped 
together, to dream unmolested under some 
fair Italian sky. The day of reckoning 
must come ; meanwhile, there would be days 
of untold happiness, and her jealous mind 
could easily picture the scene. He loved 
her rival as she had never been loved. How 
tender was his look, how impassioned his 
voice, that night when he declared his love, 
believing her to be Prasseda, disguised by the 
veil and wreath of Daphne ! And she had 
sacrificed everything for wealth which, after all, 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


152 

might never be hers. Should she ever forget 
his look of horror when he recognized her? 
How she hated this American girl ! Some day 
they should feel the blight of her revenge ! 

She wandered through the park like one 
possessed. Her words to Egon had made him 
desperate; how else could he have thrown 
honor to the winds. 

She stood by the stile where they had parted 
weeks ago, and waited for his brother. He 
would come by that path, for it was shorter. 
Yes, he was coming at last, but with head bent 
down, his step uncertain. Her worst fears were 
confirmed before he reached her. 

“ Never speak his name again,” he said. 

“ So it is true ! Did you see him ? ” 

See him ! ” he laughed aloud. “ Should I 
be here? He had already fled.” 

“Whither?” 

“ That is the question. He has taken leave 
of absence for six months. There were rumors 
of America, but he proceeded with such se- 
crecy that no one knows his real destination. 
Why, if he loved her, did he not tell me so 
frankly?” 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


153 


Franz,” said Hulda, “ perhaps I am to 
blame.” 

He looked into her face and shook his head. 

“ You are the only bright spot in this cloud, 
Hulda. How could you be to blame? You 
could not foresee that my brother would prove 
a rascal.” 

His emotion choked his utterance. 

“ I knew last night,” she said, with downcast 
eyes, “ that he loved her, and told him of your 
intention to marry Prasseda. The thought 
seemed to make him desperate. You were ex- 
pected to-day — ” 

‘‘I understand, and so they fled. An ofii- 
cer cannot marry without permission ; his 
bride must have a certain dowry. They have 
no money. It is the folly of infatuation.” 

Hulda tried to persuade him that the fault 
was Prasseda’s. She had planned it all. It 
was the adventurous blood inherited from the 
mother. But his brother replied that Egon 
was not a man to hide behind a petticoat. He 
must answer for his dishonor. He had left a 
loophole for himself in not resigning, knowing 
well the dream would end some day. 


154 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Hulda expressed her sympathy with tender- 
ness. What would she not give to save him 
from pain ! And yet she had foreseen it. She 
knew how unworthy of his trust the girl was^ 
Through the little ways by which a woman 
learns to read another, even as Franz had said, 
she had judged her light and frivolous, although 
to him Prasseda had always appeared the em- 
bodiment of innocence. She begged him to 
turn his thoughts from these ingrates, and be 
thankful for his own escape. Then bending 
down she looked into his eyes and added : 

“ That story of the packet was entirely un- 
supported by evidence. Perhaps it was a 
plausible tale invented by this girl to rouse 
your sympathy. Had she the true nature you 
suppose, would she have left you entirely with- 
out any explanation — you who have done so 
much for her? ” 

“God bless you, Hulda; you at least are 
true!” exclaimed Franz fervently; and he 
raised her hand to his lips tenderly, while she 
stooped over and kissed him on the brow. 

It was this picture that surprised Paul on his 
way home from the woods. He looked, then 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


155 


adjusted his glasses and looked again. He had 
overheard enough of their conversation to 
gather the drift of it, and it put him on liis 
guard. 

“ Ah, ha ! ” thought he. “ So bloweth the 
wind from that quarter. We must be cautious, 
Paul.” 

And he went back into the wood and ap- 
proached the Schloss from another road un- 
seen. 

When he reached home, he listened in si- 
lence to the tale told by his weeping sister. 
His heart was heavy with apprehension. But 
on his table lay a little bunch of faded violets. 
Two indistinct words were traced on a card 
attached to their stems. They were, “Trust 


CHAPTER XV. 


ARLSHOHE stands Upon a rocky cliff, 



\j against which the waves beat incessantly. 
The sea-gulls circle over it and utter plaintive 
cries as if forecasting the old Count’s death. 
He lives in dreams and cares not who super- 
sedes him. He wanders about the park babbling 
of his childhood, then of his children as if they 
still lived. No one pities him. His servants 
are old and childish. He has outlived his day. 
And when he is gone, the Schloss will pass out 
of the direct line for the first time in gener- 
ations. 

Below the cliff is a little beach and then 
a wood, reaching almost to the water’s edge. 
Out among the rocks are treacherous quick- 
sands that have engulfed many an unwary 
traveler. Steps cut in the side of the cliff 
lead up to the Schloss, but they are moss- 
grown. Since Ulrich’s day, no one has been 
venturesome enough to climb them, for the 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


157 


broad carriage-road leading from the highway 
is a much safer conduct to the Schloss. 

Its halls are empty and desolate. Steps send 
shuddering echoes through the corridors. Old 
Lena drops her candle, as a bat, frightened from 
its seclusion by the unusual glare, flits past 
her. She is almost blind now and quite lame. 
She sits in the tower chamber, and spins, and 
dreams again of the days when her good man, 
Jochen came to court her — as if the sod had 
not covered him these twenty years. She 
croons to herself an old song, keeping time 
with her turning wheel. The wind is rising ; 
there is many a poor lad at sea, whose sweet- 
heart is praying, as she used to pray before 
Jochen gave up his roving life and settled 
down to farming. 

There came a fragile girl to Carlshohe, as 
wife to the tyrannical master; later two child- 
ren were born, but the mother hardly dared 
love them, for it would have been too much sun- 
shine in her life. The gloom of the wild Schloss 
killed her, as it did her daughter years after. 
Surely the wind was rising. The candle flick- 
ered in the tower window and sank in its 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


t58 

socket. Some one was driving up the road. 
The horses stamped on the stone platform 
before the door ; voices were calling impa- 
tiently. 

Old Lena hobbled down the stairs and threw 
open the door wide. In the darkness she could 
see the dripping rubber coat of the droschke 
driver, who grumbled at the delay, while 
the watch-dogs bayed in the distance. A man 
descended from the carriage and offered his 
arm to a woman, who was so disguised by her 
wrappings that Lena could not get a glance to 
satisfy her curiosity. She led them into the 
hall and lighted the two wax candles on 
the bare carved table. The light flickered in 
the corners of the great room and brought into 
view a row of ghostly figures hanging on 
the walls. The travellers were evidently not 
expected. No message had been received ; 
doubtless old Heinrich would bring the blue en- 
velope with the mail from D in the morn- 

ing. She listened quietly to the orders given 
by the man, who seemed to direct everything, 
and curtsied deferentially. Suddenly she 
glanced over his shouldeV at his companion; 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


159 

her eyes dilated with fear as she pointed quickly 
at her. 

“ What is it ? ” questioned the man sharply, 
although he knew what had caused her alarm. 
He studied the old woman's expression calmly. 

“ What is it ? " whispered poor Lena, thor- 
oughly frightened ; “ Grosser Gott ! It is the 
gnadiges Frdulein^ come to life again." 

Her teeth began to chatter in her head. 

“ Foolish woman, what are you saying? ’’ he 
replied, sternly. “ I have brought the new 
English nurse with me. Miss Simons. The 
gnadiges Frdiileiny indeed ! The dead sleep 
soundly enough, remember that. Go and pre- 
pare the lady's room." 

He turned his back abruptly on the curious 
old woman, and she left them muttering to 
herself. 

Meanwhile Prasseda, who had taken off her 
wraps, looked about with interest. This was 
her father's home. In this place, far removed 
from cheerful companionship, he fretted his 
youth away. The wind moaned around the 
Schloss and increased her feeling of disquietude. 
Lena came back and lighted her to her cham- 


l6o ODDS AGAIXST IJED. 

ber in the tower, looking at her searchingly as 
they mounted the winding stair. 

The room was simply furnished. Over the 
bed was a fresco of barnyard fowls, brilliant 
in color. It filled the entire wall, and seemed 
strangely incongruous with the surroundings. 
The wind rattled the casement, but Prasseda 
did not heed it. She was thinking of the task 
before her ; the hope that hung on an insane 
man’s life. At length she slept, lulled by the 
waves that washed the cliff below her window. 

The next morning broke gloriously. The 
sun flooded her little room and wakened her 
from a dreamless sleep. The sea glittered with 
golden light. Over the cliff sailed white sea- 
gulls welcoming her by weird cries. She was 
the last of the line, the heiress of Carlshdhe. 
This was her home ; no longer dreaiy in the 
light of morning, but majestic and wild. Her 
father had not been sad, but happy here. She 
remembered her mother’s tales of his boyish 
adventures among the rocks that lined the 
shore. Only an unjust father could have 
driven him to foreign lands. 

For the first time since she left America 


ODDS AGAINST HER. l6l 

Prasseda felt free. Here she could roam at 
will unbounded by the narrow circle of con- 
ventionality. No Xante Anna to look at her 
reprovingly. There was nothing to check her 
ardor. She could breathe in the fresh sea air 
and gain strength for the task she had set her- 
self. 

If Max were here they would beat the forest 
together. It must be full of game. Poor 
Minerva ! . She would be lonely with these peo- 
ple in Berlin. She could see her black face 
drawn into an expression of despair, almost 
ludicrous in its intensity, but there was no help 
for it, since secrecy was necessary to her plan. 
She must sink her identity in the role of nurse. 
Her black maid would have betrayed her. 

After dressing herself in a simple black 
gown, she put on a white apron and cap, and 
descended to the breakfast-room. She glanced 
at the pictured faces of her ancestors hanging 
on the oak-lined walls, and paused before the 
original of the portrait which had startled 
'Egon at Felsenstein. A smile lighted her face. 
Care was forgotten. The massive walls of the 
Schloss parted, rolled away, and disclosed a 


i 62 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


bend in the river. She could see Egon sitting 
in the bow of the boat, and hear his voice 
rising above the rushing water as he told his 
story of the mysterious hand. Here was a 
picture of the hand and ring. It did not sur- 
prise her; on the contrary, it seemed most 
natural to find it here in this old castle be- 
longing to her people. 

The doctor observed her unnoticed. He 
spoke twice before his voice recalled her from 
dreamland. 

“ How are you this morning?” 

“As usual, doctor,” she replied, recovering 
her self-possession ; “and ready.” 

“ Then come with me.” 

She followed him through the hall to a small 
suite of rooms overlooking a terraced garden. 

A fountain played in the center, and inter- 
secting paths formed beds of brilliant flowers. 
The sitting-room was wainscoted in carved 
oak, out of which peeped the faces of saints 
and cherubs. Two angels supported the high 
mantel-piece, where a fire was laid ready for 
lighting. There were some book-shelves 
beyond it, and a case of guns. Some fishing 


ODDS A GAINS 7' NED. 


163 


tackle hung over the fire-place twined round a 
wicker basket. Behind a portiere was a cham- 
ber furnished with an iron bed. The window 
leading to the terrace reached the ground. It 
was open, and the soft summer air filled the 
room with fragrance. 

The doctor led Prasseda across the terrace 
to the other side of the Schloss, and into a 
study which was lighted by high gothic win- 
dows. There was a velvet curtain hanging on 
the wall, which he pulled aside, disclosing the 
picture of a beautiful girl, the very counter- 
part of herself. 

It was a portrait of the dead Prasseda. The 
doctor looked critically at her a moment, and 
shook his head. 

“Go to your room, my dear, and take off 
that disguise. It will never do,” he said. 
“ Put on one of your simplest dresses and come 
back here.” 

Prasseda nodded assent and hurried away. 

When she returned an old man was stand- 
ing beside the doctor. His white hair and 
beard lent him the air of a patriarch. He 
stood erect, without support — and at first gave 


164 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


the impression of great bodily strength. It was 
only when one looked into the pallid face and 
met the roving eye that his weakness was dis- 
cernible. Those bright black eyes sunken un- 
der heavy brows had brought terror to more 
than one heart in their day. 

The old Count sank into a chair before the 
portrait and looked at it long and earnestly. 

“Always the same!” he said mournfully; 
“Always the same silence. I cry in vain. 
She will not answer. Draw the curtain, I say,” 
he commanded testily. “ Shut out the coun- 
terfeit. I would see the real. I would hear 
her voice. I would hear her begging forgive- 
ness — for Ulrich — who went across the sea. 
Why do you not do as I command.^” 

The doctor smoothed his hand gently and 
quieted him with a look. He dropped the 
curtain over the picture and endeavored to 
divert the old man’s attention. Would he not 
walk with his guest around the garden and point 
out the beauties of Carlshohe } 

“ Prasseda, lend your father an arm,” he said. 
She stepped quickly forward. 

“Prasseda!” muttered her grandfather. He 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 165 

looked into her face wistfully as if dazed, and 
struggled with his fading memory. 

“Come, my daughter,” he said presently, 
and smiled. 

•' They walked through the gardens in silence; 
he leaning on her arm and looking now and 
then into her face with a questioning glance 
that roused her pity. All her bitterness faded 
before his helplessness. She could not cherish 
resentment against this weak old man, however 
deeply he might have wronged her. 

When they returned to the house she left 
him and went up to her tower chamber. The 
sun had gone, and the sea looked cold and 
cheerless. Would she fulfill her mission ? 
Would her presence really calm and prolong 
his life? 

Dr. Schultz went back to Schwerin that even- 
ing, promising to return the next day, and she 
was left alone with the patient. She had had 
little experience in nursing, and, although the 
doctor had left explicit directions, she felt un- 
certain of her capability. The Count had his 
regular attendants who remained with him dur- 
ing the hours when she wished to rest, but the 


i66 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


old man would hardly allow her out of his sight. 
Old Lena eyed her suspiciously and seemed to 
regard her presence with disfavor. What right 
had a nurse to look like their sainted '' gnddiges 
Frdulein ” ? 

Dr. Schultz had explained that this strange 
resemblance might be the means of curing her 
master. He warned the housekeeper against 
referring to it. The delusion must be com- 
plete. So when the old man called for his 
daughter, Lena knew that the English nurse 
was w'anted ; but she was jealous of his pre- 
ference and found it difficult to disguise her 
feeling. 

That night, after the doctor had gone, 
Prasseda was awakened and called to the bed- 
side of her grandfather, who had been seized 
with a paroxysm. Although she had striven to 
prepare herself for this ordeal, she found it 
more horrible even than her imagination had 
painted. 

Two men were supporting him and trying 
in vain to quell his fears. Behind him his 
son Ulrich seemed to stand like an avenging 
specter, demanding justice for his past cruelty. 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


167 


The old man crouched in an arm-chair and put 
up his hands feebly to protect himself from his 
accuser; his eyes, starting from their sockets, 
glared over his shoulder as if fixed on some 
invisible presence ; the drops stood on his 
ashen face, and his breath came in labored 
gasps. 

Prasseda trembled with horror at the scene. 
Outside the water dashing against the rocks in 
dull monotone added to the desolation. She 
was shut up alone in this strange house with a 
madman. 

“ Away from me, Ulrich ! Leave me in 
peace. The fault was mine,” he cried ; “ I 
will atone ; only leave me. See the blood 
dripping on the floor ! He was killed in battle. 
See, he threatens me ! He is coming. Ah ! ” 

He rose shrieking, and tried to flee, but 
terror held him chained, and with a shudder- 
ing cry he sank fainting to the floor. 

A cool hand was laid upon his brow. Pras- 
seda whispered words of comfort in his ear. 
He opened his eyes and stared at her a 
moment. She caressed his hand and put her 
around his neck tenderly. 


i68 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


Mein theures Kind,'" he murmured, with a 
sigh of relief ; Bist du esf Jetzt ist mir ivohlB 

And Prasseda for the first time in her life 
lost consciousness under the strain. 

When she came to her senses he had fallen 
into a refreshing sleep, the first natural rest he 
had enjoyed for days. She watched by him 
for hours, sitting in a cramped position for 
fear of awakening him, and vowed henceforth 
to devote herself to her task faithfully. 

During the day her grandfather seemed 
more quiet and rational. It was at night that 
these violent attacks seized him and made 
him a terror to himself and those watching 
near. 

Next morning Prasseda went out to walk in 
the wood along the shore. The house op- 
pressed her. She was still weighed down by 
the scene of the previous night, and felt that if 
she was to keep her health and strength she 
must live in the free air as much as possible. 

She picked her way over the stones until she 
came to a rock where the waves dashed up 
and broke in white foam on its jagged front. 
Not a cloud was to be seen. Little sails dotted 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 169 

the horizon ; and above her the Schloss towered 
threateningly. 

Felsenstein had sunk out of her life as though 
it had never existed. What of Egon ? Had 
he forgotten her? Although no word had been 
spoken between them, she knew that he loved 
her. He had told her so in many ways. His 
tender solicitude for her happiness, his very 
avoidance of her, was proof that she was be- 
loved. There was some barrier between them. 
What, she could not know. She trusted him 
thoroughly. He could not doubt her, and 
even if the gossip were true, she knew well 
that he would not judge her harshly. 

She pondered thus, sitting on the rock and 
looking out to sea. The wind blew her hair in 
little rings around her brow, and brought the 
color to her pale cheek. She shaded her face 
and glanced across the beach. Her quick eyes 
had discerned a figure of a man standing in 
the shadow of a rock some distance away. He 
seemed to hesitate. 

Beyond the tide was receding, leaving bare . 
the quicksands. A path led past them up 
through the wood. It added to the distance 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


170 

by a mile or more, and those not familiar with 
the danger of the shifting sand would naturally 
attempt by crossing it to shorten the journey 
towards the Schloss. He looked toward the 
woods, then up at Carlshohe, and stepping out 
took the perilous path towards her. 

Her heart stood still with dread. 

As far as the rocks continued there was 
safety. Let him once place his foot on the 
quivering beach and his doom was sealed. 

She stood up and waved her handkerchief to 
attract his attention and warn him. He saw 
her and mistook her signal for a greeting, and 
approached more eagerly. 

She knew that graceful figure too well. It 
was Egon. 

A boat, moored in the little inlet below the 
cliff, moved to and fro on the waves. In a 
had moment she jumped into it and pulled out 
with quick strokes towards him, crying, 

“ Wait, for God’s sake, Egon ! ” 

He, seeing that she would pass him, turned 
and retraced his steps. 

When she ran the boat ashore he was terrified 
by her pallor. She held him by both hands. 


ODDS AGAWST HER. 


171 

and trembling from head to foot, exclaimed, 
“A step more and you would have been lost;” 
then pointing towards the glistening beach she 
told him of his danger. 

Afterwards they sat under a pine and talked 
together. How had he found her there? 
She thought -her secret hidden. Did the 
others know? What had Franz said at her 
sudden departure? He must tell her every- 
thing. He was embarrassed by her eager ques- 
tions. He knew nothing. By chance he had 
seen Minerva in the streets of Berlin, and after 
much persuasive argument had learned enough 
to make him suspect that his cousin was at 
Carlshohe. What had made her leave Felsen- 
stein so suddenly? That was some mystery, for 
the black woman had sworn him by cabalistic- 
signs to secrecy, saying that her mistress would 
kill her for betraying her. 

Then Prasseda told him the truth. She had 
heard the gossip concerning her birth that 
night, and determined to escape secretly. Did 
he think it wrong? How could he censure her ? 
He longed rather to take her in his arms and 
tell her that he was her champion. The im- 


172 


ODDS AO AIN ST HER. 


pulse almost overmastered him, but he was in 
honor bound. He would fight these scandal- 
mongers and crush them all. 

How beautiful she had looked when she came 
to warn him of his danger. Did she love him ? 
H is heart said yes, but yet he might not speak. 
Even if her rights were proven he might not 
speak. Still less then than now when she was 
nameless and unknown. That was Franz’s pre- 
rogative. He would inherit Carlshohe. It 
would be his privilege to offer her as a gift the 
inheritance which was hers by right. 

Only when she had refused to marry his 
brother should he be free to speak of his love. 
However, he could not help coming to see her 
before leaving for America. Minerva’s strange 
excitement had alarmed him. Some harm 
might have befallen her mistress ; but she was 
safe at Carlshohe. He could leave her there 
without uneasiness, and start on what might be 
a vain search. He had come simply to hear 
her voice, to press her hand. He had not 
thought what he should say. He was con- 
scious only of her presence, and she forgot to 
ask his errand. 


ODDS ACAIMST her. 


173 


The sun rose high in the heavens, and a dis- 
tant clock struck the hour. 

She started to her feet. Too long had she 
tarried, forgetting her grandfather in her hap- 
piness. 

“ I must go back,” she said. 

Egon stood up and held out his hand. 

“ The hours have flown. Good-bye.” 

“ Good-bye ? Are you not coming with me ? ” 

“ I could not go so far away without saying 
good-bye.” 

“ Where are you going ? ” 

Her face was troubled : all the light faded 
from it. 

“ I am going on a quest.” 

He looked into her questioning eyes, and 
hesitated. Why trouble her? Why raise 
hopes that might never be realized? If he 
were successful she would know soon enough. 
If not, then he need never tell her. She had 
been cut to the quick by cruel gossip ; better 
not add to her pain. 

My mission here is ended since I have 
seen you, cousin,” he said, raising her hand 
to his lips. 


t74 


ODDS AGAIN S2' HER. 


I do not understand,” she replied gravely, 
“but I trust you, Egon.” 

“ Through good repute and ill ? ” 

“ Through everything.” 

She went up the path through the wood, 
and long after her figure had faded in the dis- 
tance he stood thinking. Then he looked at 
the foam-tipped waves, the rocks, and the 
smiling quicksands, at the flag flying from the 
tower of the Schloss, and slowly retraced his 
steps toward D— — . 

He passed as he turned back an aged crone 
leaning on a stick, who looked after him curi- 
ously. 

“ Du liebcr Gott ! ” she muttered. “Yester- 
day I saw the ghost of our sainted gnddiges 
Frdulein reflected in the English woman’s 
face. To-day I see the young master walking 
through the forest. ’Tis his very gait. Ah 
me ! I am growing old and childish. Strange 
fancies, to see a likeness to my masters in every 
passer-by.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


M eanwhile at Felsenstein Paul tried 
in vain to solve the problem of Egon 
and Prasseda’s strange disappearance. His 
cynicism prompted him to believe the worst. 
It was his belief that people usually followed 
their inclinations in defiance of law and reason, 
concealing all traces, if possible. Egon was 
a gentleman’s son. He could not be guilty 
of cowardice ; but he was human, he loved 
Prasseda, and not being able to have her 
by legitimate means, chose others. The evi- 
dence was strongly against them. The station- 
master had described the man who left by early 
train, accompanying the lady and her black ser- 
vant. It fitted Egon, for Schultz was tall and 
blond like the dragoon. The others ceased to 
doubt, and found voice only to condemn. 

The little bunch of faded violets told an- 
other story. “ Trust me,” she had said. Why 
should he not trust the child ? He was an old 


176 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


fool to have faith in any woman. Well, then 
he was satisfied to be an old fool. 

He said nothing of his doubts. The others 
might think what they pleased ; he should 
await developments. The thought that Egon 
had gone to America in search of the proof 
of Ulrich’s marriage sometimes occurred to 
him, but he had no proof that the young 
officer had gone on any such Quixotic errand. 
Franz’s theory was more plausible. He had 
taken six months’ leave to spend it with his 
love. Men were not heroes in these days. 
But a voice whispered, “Trust me” in his 
ear, and he repudiated the doubt with 
scorn. 

And so weeks passed. 

Franz was still at Felsenstein, with Hulda. 
She played the role of consoler to perfection. 
She understood his thoughts and answered 
them. Every want was satisfied even before 
he had spoken. She walked with him and 
made herself indispensable in many ways. She 
was thoroughly in earnest now. 

Franz turned to her entirely. Having lost 
faith in Egon, Prasseda was of little moment. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


177 


His feeling for her had been one of sympathy. 
Now he despised her for her deception. 

Hulda had destroyed her plaintive appeal 
for forgiveness. He did not know that she 
had written, and her ingratitude seemed blacker 
for the omission. 

At last, encouraged by Hulda's tender- 
ness, he declared his love. She was terrified 
by the strength of feeling she had roused. He 
was no longer a tool in her hands, but a master 
made imperious by passion. He could not 
bear her out of his sight. He was jealous of 
her thoughts. Having at last yielded her love 
to him, he would guard it with his life. Hence- 
forth her days should be passed with him in 
England, away from all painful memories. She 
should find happiness with him alone, a pros- 
pect which she did not view with unalloyed 
pleasure. The complacent Franz had become 
a tyrant, who might prove trying at some 
future time. He clasped her in his arms and 
held her close, swearing that naught but death 
should part them. Even then his love should 
reach beyond the grave and bring her back. 
Should she prove false like the rest, he would 


178 


ODDS AGAINST HER 


kill her without remorse ; and he looked thor- 
oughly capable of keeping his word. 

Had it not been for Egon and her determina- 
tion to win the game, she would have thrown 
Franz over and fled anywhere away from him, 
so distasteful did these scenes become to her. 
How could she bear it ? Her nights were spent 
in uselessly conjuring up pictures of her 
^ rival’s happiness — her days in listening to the 
wild protestations of a love which found no 
response in her heart. Sometimes she doubted 
her strength to face the future. Franz was 
desirous of announcing their betrothal at once, 
but she urged as an excuse the precarious 
condition of the Count’s health. No one but 
Paul and Anna knew it as yet. She felt a con- 
stant anxiety about the hidden papers since 
she had disclosed the secret to Egon. She 
could not rest as long as they were not de- 
stroyed. Some one might stumble on the 
hiding-place, as she had done, and find them. 

Soon after Franz was summoned to England, 
and insisted upon making his engagement 
public before his departure. 

Hulda received a letter from a cousin living 


ODDS AGAINST NED. 


179 


at Rabenhorst, near Carlshohe, suggesting that 
she should come and visit there during her 
fiance’s absence. Although the invitation had 
been given in a jesting tone, for her Rabenhorst 
cousin knew well how little taste the gay 
Russian had for country life, she was surprised 
to receive an answer by return of mail. There 
was nothing that Hulda longed for more at 
that moment than to spend a few days in 
delightful, wild “ Raven’s Nest,” and the time 
of Franz’s absence in England would suit 
admirably. Elsa was not over-pleased, but 
having given the invitation at her father’s 
command, there was nothing to be done. 

Prasseda had no idea of her enemy’s prox- 
imity. 

The days passed quietly at Carlshohe. Al- 
though the Count did not improve, at least he 
lost no ground. The terrible attacks to which 
he had been subject appeared at rarer intervals, 
and Prasseda began to hope again. She was 
always able to quiet him in these sudden parox- 
ysms ; her voice seemed to reassure bim ; but 
the strain was beginning to tell on her. She 
looked pale and worn. 


i8o 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


She had told no one of Egon’s visit to the 
Schloss. Indeed, no one would have been in- 
terested but the doctor, who came less often 
since his patient grew no worse. Old Lena 
continued to treat her with suspicion. Some- 
times a sense of loneliness would steal over her. 
Her longing for companionship would become 
intolerable, and she would feel as if she could 
not endure living in this desolate castle, shut off 
from the world. The old woman, who occu- 
pied the chamber next her own, sat spinning si- 
lently, like one of the fates, day after day. She 
had known Prasseda’s father ; had loved him. 
What tales could she not tell his daughter, 
who was thirsting for a word of human sym- 
pathy ? The silence, broken only by the dash- 
ing waves or a screaming night-bird, would 
drive her insane. 

Once, when the old Count had had an un- 
ea^ night, she came up to her tower cham- 
ber, worn out in mind and body. Old Lena 
sat like the witch in a fairy tale, winding the 
yarn on a great wheel. The door stood open, 
and she peered curiously out at the hated En- 
glish nurse through a crack in the curtain. 




ODDS AGAINST HER. i8i 

Prasseda forgot her caution, and went in to 
speak with her. 

She looked up from her distaff and nodded. 
What did the intruder want with her? The 
bowed head and bony fingers gave sign of 
great age. She had spent her life in service 
of the Arnims. Perhaps she might talk of 
the Junker who died in exile. Oh, if this old 
woman had known the truth, how eagerly she 
would have welcomed her! 

“ The master is worse to-day," said Prasseda, 
sitting down on the stair. 

No answer — the wheel whirred on. 

“ When he dies, what will become of you, 
Lena? " 

The woman looked over her shoulder angrily. 

“ I’ll bide my time, Fraulein, and do my duty 
in silence. Others better follow my example.’' 

“ Why are you vexed with me, Lena? Why 
do you never have a kind word for me ?" 

A grim look overspread her wrinkled face. 

I don’t like ye, Fremde. What are ye do- 
ing here with a face like our Prasseda ? No 
fine words for me. I distrust ye." 

Distrust me ? " 




i 82 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


She remembered how much was at stake, and 
was silent. 

“ The day may come, Lena, when you will 
not be so harsh,” she said, rising slowly, “You 
loved the young master Ulrich?” 

“ Aye, Fraulein. I would have given my life 
for him.” 

“ Then do not be my enemy,” she answered, 
and left the room. 

The old woman took up her stick and hob- 
bled after her. There was a strange excite 
ment in her withered face. 

What did she mean? There was some mys- 
tery ^here. How came this English girl with 
the Arnim face? The young master had died 
in America, a land of English-speaking people. 
She would be just the age. Could it be his 
daughter? No, no, his daughter would never 
come in that guise to Carlshohe. There was 
something wrong. She must not be duped too 
easily ; but the Arnim face, that could not be 
chance. She put her wheel aside, and thought 
long over the problem. She would watch and 
wait. 

Later she found a piece of paper, with 


ODDS AGAINST HER 


183 


writing on it, in the tower chamber. It might 
be a clue to this Miss Simons’s identity, so she 
hid it away among her treasures for future con- 
sideration. In the dim light she could not 
make it out. Lena’s education had never been 
completed. In her girlhood she could read 
and cipher, but as her eyesight grew dim 
she lost these accomplishments. She had to 
await, therefore, a fitting opportunity for 
forming her theory, until Heinrich, the post- 
man, should come round again. Meanwhile 
she was more deferential to Prasseda, for she 
had appealed to her in the Junker’s name. 

The young girl walked with her grandfather 
through the garden down to the edge of the 
cliff when he felt strong enough, and listened 
to disjointed tales of his past. Ulrich’s name 
as often mentioned lovingly. He would tell 
her of his boy’s bravery ; how gallant and 
hardy he was. Memories of their quarrel 
never came with the sunshine. It was only at 
night that his son took the form of a specter to 
haunt him. Ulrich would have been the heir 
to all these lands had he lived, but he had died 
years before. Now Prasseda would be mistress 


i84 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


of his domain. Thus she learned for the first 
time of her prospective inheritance. She had 
never thought of the worldly advantage her 
grandfather’s death would be to her. She had 
thought of Franz as the heir. The estates 
must pass to the male line, but her grandfather 
ignored his nephew in his talk with her. 

Then again, his mood would change, and he 
believed Ulrich still alive and estranged from 
him. He would repeat the scene of their quar- 
rel, and denounce his son’s conduct in angry 
tones. At such times Prasseda’s patience was 
sorely tried. It was hard to listen to his bitter 
words. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


H ULDA found it extremely dull at Rabens- 
horst. She talked to the old General 
on politics until it seemed as though her pa- 
tience could endure no more. While she 
talked she was planning a visit to Carlshohe 
and some plausible method of reaching the 
papers. She must take time. It would not 
do to risk anything by haste. 

One afternoon she drove with her cousin 
Elsa, a pretty girl of seventeen, through the 
Carlshohe woods. The General suggested that 
they stop on their way back and inquire for the 
old Count, but Elsa said the road to the 
Schloss was steep, and Wildfeuer had not been 
shod recently If Hulda were very anxious, of 
course she would make no objection ; but her 
cousin did not persist. 

Half-way up^ the road through the wood a 
gate barred their progress. There was no one 
near, and their efforts to open it proved fruit- 


i86 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


less. Beside the gate was a turnstile which 
led into a woodland path, and at a little distance 
among the trees an old woman was limping 
along, leaning on a stout cane. 

“ There is some one belonging to the Arnims,” 
said Hulda, pointing her out to Elsa. “ Wait 
here and I will make inquiries.” 

She sprang from the phaeton and went up 
the walk. As she drew near she recognized old 
Lena, whom she had thought dead years ago, 
but the old crone did not know her again behind 
her veil. 

“ Do you belong to the Schloss, my good 
dame,” she asked, taking out her purse and 
dropping a silver coin into her trembling 
hand. 

“ Yes, my gracious lady.” 

“And is the Herr Graf better?” 

“ No, my lady. God willing, he will be better 
in another world,” was the pious response. 

“ So bad as that ? Is he alone ? ” 

“ The doctor comes weekly. At present the 
Herr Baron Kempen is expected. And the 
English nurse — ” 

Hulda lifted her head quickly. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


187 


“ The English nurse ? ” she repeated. “ When 
did she come ? ” 

“ I know not exactly,” returned Lena, look- 
ing down as if searching for something among 
the grass. She remembered the doctor’s in- 
junction. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. 
Heinrich, the postman, had not called for days. 
She had carried the crumpled bit of paper 
in her bag waiting for him to decipher it. This 
strange lady would not gossip. Better trust 
her than one of her own class. She would ask 
her to read the writing, and learn if she had 
been right to doubt the girl with the Arnim 
face. 

Hulda heard her calling as she was about to 
pass through the stile. Lena was fumbling in a 
little black silk bag that was tied by a string 
to her girdle. 

“ Would gnadige Frau kindly read the bit 
of writing on the paper?” she asked, dropping 
a curtsey, “ and pardon the liberty ? ” 

“ Prasseda von Arnim in Felsenstein ! ” ex- 
claimed Hulda, in surprise, as she glanced at 
the envelope. “ Why, woman, where did you 
get this? ” 


i88 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Old Lena raised her bleared eyes to Hulda’s 
face. They gleamed as she peered behind the 
black lace veil, but she dropped them quickly ; 
her wrinkled brow turned a shade paler. The 
strange nurse had appealed to her in the 
Junker’s name. 

“ I found it in the wood,” she answered, mak- 
ing another stiff curtsey. “ The gnadige Frau 
will pardon my not recognizing her at first.” 

Me? Woman, you do not know me. ” 

“ I see strange likenesses at times,” she an- 
swered. I thought gnadige Frau was the 
sainted Master Friedrich’s widow, but I was 
mistaken. Who shall I say inquired for the 
master?” 

Hulda bit her lips with vexation. 

“SayFraulein von Rabenhorst,” she replied, 
and turned away. 

She answered Elsa evasively when she asked 
the result of her inquiries. These peasants 
were so unsatisfactory. Should she go to 
Carlshohe ? How came that envelope in this 
old hag’s hand ? 

The address was in Franz’s handwriting. It 
was the cover to a letter he had written Pras- 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


189 


seda from Carlshohe during his recent visit 
there. Who was this mysterious English nurse ? 
She was filled with sudden dread. Could it be 
Prasseda ? Absurd ! The girl was in Italy with 
Egon ; but she must set her doubts at rest. A 
carriage passed them on the road going to D — . 
The Arnim arms were emblazoned on its panel. 
She stopped the coachman with a gesture, and 
repeated the questions she had asked old Lena, 
receiving very much the same answer. He ex- 
plained that Baron Kempen was expected by 
the night train, and that Dr. Schultz was com- 
ing with him. 

The coast was clear. Now was the time for 
action. She remarked to Elsa, as they drove 
on, that it seemed only common courtesy for 
her to inquire personally at the Schloss after 
the Count’s health. Her cousin touched the 
pony, and started off at a rapid pace. The sea 
was lighted by the setting sun, and the spray 
dashed up to the edge of the road. As they 
drove by the cliff and turned into the court- 
yard, Hulda formed her plan. 

“ Drive through the wood, Elsa, and come 
back for me. I shall not be long.” 


190 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


The footman gave her a vague report. There 
seemed no cause for immediate alarm. Was 
the Count well attended? She should like to 
see his nurse and learn his exact condition. 
Certainly, if gnddige Frau would step into the 
drawing-room. The nurse was walking in the 
garden, he would call her. 

His steps died away. She was alone. Behind 
that closed door was the little wainscoted room 
unguarded. Could she risk it? 

Prasseda, in the garden, saw the man ap- 
proaching, and advanced to meet him. Was 
her grandfather ill ? 

Suddenly her hand was grasped by trembling 
fingers, and old Lena fell on her knees before 
her. 

“ Oh, gnddige s Frdulein ! How can you 
ever forgive me ! Gnddiges Frdulein Prasseda ! 
My stupid old eyes were blind.” 

Prasseda drew her hand away, startled by her 
tone. Who had betrayed her ? 

“ What do you mean ? ” she answered 
haughtily. *‘Are you crazy, Lena? Get up 
and be sensible.” 

The woman obeyed in silence. 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


191 

“ Then you won’t tell me,” she said sorrow- 
fully ; but the Junker would have trusted old 
Lena.” 

Her words went to Prasseda’s heart. 

^^Gnadiges Frdtileiny' she added with dignity, 
“ call yourself what you like. I shall serve you 
just the same,” and weeping she went up the 
path. 

Prasseda followed her slowly. It was prob- 
ably only an old woman’s fancy. Brooding 
over her resemblance to the dead mistress had 
turned old Lena’s brain. 

The man came down the walk with Hulda’s 
message. A strange lady, inquiring for the 
master, wished to see her. This was a natural 
request, since she was his nurse. The lady 
was urgent. Did she ask especially for Miss 
Simons ? No she wished simply to see the 
Count’s attendant, not being satisfied with the 
servant’s report. Very well, she would come 
directly. 

When she reached the drawing-room the 
lady had gone, and Lena was standing by the 
outer door. 

“ Where is the visitor ? ” 


192 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“ I told her you could not see her,” was the 
decided reply. 

Prasseda flushed at her tone. 

*‘You take strange liberties,” she said, 
shortly. 

The Junker trusted me,” was her dogged 
answer, and Prasseda thought her crazy. 

Later she appreciated the old woman’s fore- 
thought. The lady had been none other than 
Hulda, who had risked everything to penetrate 
her seclusion, for according to the terms of the 
Count’s agreement her annuity was forfeited 
by this act. 

She learned of Hulda’s presence through her 
grandfather, whom she found in a state of agi- • 
tation bordering on frenzy. He moved wildly 
from one room to another, muttering inco- 
herently, now and then stopping to listen for 
some sound from the outer apartment, then 
continuing his weary walk. For the first time 
he did not heed her remonstrance. 

*‘You do not know the danger, Prasseda,” 
he said, excitedly. “ She is a bad woman. She 
will bring a curse on us all. Friedrich, I tell 
you it was an evil day when you married her.” 


ODDS A GAIN’S T HER, 


193 


Then he laughed low to himself. “ I will cheat 
her yet — this Hulda! She thinks to throw 
dust in my eyes ; but I can see ! I can see ! 
The old man has many a day to live ; although 
you would step into his shoes! ” 

He sat by the window and looked out 
through the blinds, rubbing his hands softly 
together, listening now and then as if he still 
heard her voice. 

“The Count is very well to-day,’' he said in 
a sarcastic tone. “Yes, well enough to outwit 
you, Hulda. You would rule at Carlshohe. 
You would have Friedrich dictate to me. The 
wood needs cutting on the sea road, does it ? 
You shall learn that the old Count is still 
master at Carlshohe.” 

Then he sank back exhausted. Thus 
Prasseda understood why Lena had sent 
the visitor away. She had misjudged her. 
Her grandfather looked at her suspiciously 
when she took his hand, but recognized her. 
She bade him rest. His condition gave her 
uneasiness, and she looked for Paul’s coming 
that night with a sense of relief. 

Afterwards, when she thought he slept, he 


194 ODDS AC A IN HER, 

stole softly from his bed to the iron chest 
where his papers were kept. He felt among 
the documents carefully, watching at the same 
time, with all the cunning of a madman, to see 
whether he was observed. But when she 
approached the bed, and looked behind the 
curtains, he slept peacefully, one hand slipped 
under his pillow, the other thrown over his 
head in an attitude of careless repose. His 
face was as expressionless as a child’s. There 
seemed no cause for anxiety, so she left him in 
charge of the night-nurse, a new addition to 
the household, who had just -come from a 
neighboring estate, excellently recommended. 
She had been nursing a patient who died after 
a tedious illness, and certainly could be trusted. 
Weary with long vigils, Prasseda went up the 
stairs to rest until Paul arrived. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


H ULDA shut herself up in her room at 
Rabenhorst, and tried to think. There 
was some mystery at Carlshohe yet unfathomed. 
She had been unable to accomplish her purpose 
of abstracting the packet, for, as she stood 
on the threshold, the peasant woman passed 
the window. She had only time to close the 
door and resume her position by the table be- 
fore Lena entered the drawing-room. Lena had 
met the servant on his way to the wood, and 
learned his errand. Her young mistress did 
not know her danger. 

The gnddige Frau would have to excuse 
the English nurse, for she was busy with th^ 
master. She would answer any necessary 
questions, she said, dropping a curtsey and 
assuming a deferential manner that to the con- 
scious plotter seemed almost mocking. 

Hulda was forced to yield ungraciously, ah 
though, had she waited but a moment, Prasseda 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER, 


196 

would have appeared to answer for herself. 
Lena saw her safely out, and shut the door. 
Her visit had availed nothing. 

Ulrich’s rooms were unoccupied ; this she 
had gathered from a cursory glance. 

The sun set, and a moonlight night began. 
The rocks were clearly visible outside the win- 
dow. The longer she thought over the situa- 
tion the more restless she became. Oh, if she 
could only have the packet safe in her posses- 
sion ! Should she ever again have an oppor- 
tunity like the one missed that afternoon ? 
Why had this meddling old woman not come a 
little later? No, even then the danger would 
have been too great. She must not be found 
with the evidence in her hand. 

The rooms were unguarded on that side of 
the house. The Count’s apartments were some 
distance away. Paul would not arrive till 
late. Oh, if she only dared risk it ! Then she 
could push back the catch on the long French 
windows opening on the terrace, and slip 
softly by. It would be the work of a moment, 
and her anxiety would be ended. Enveloped 
in a long mantle, who would recognize her? 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 197 

The path through the woods was lonely, but 
the moon was shining. By taking the disused 
steps up the cliff, she could reach the Schloss 
in half an hour and be back before she was 
missed. 

She must do something; she could not bear 
to live another day in such suspense. 

The moon shone into her room. It was as 
bright as day; she had made up her mind. 

Starting up, she took her black cloak and 
stole softly out upon the beach. To follow 
the high-road and branch off into the path they 
had taken that afternoon would entail too much 
danger. It was only by crossing the rocks 
passing the quicksands and climbing the moss- 
covered cliff that she could hope to reach the 
castle unobserved. 

Half the distance had been traversed safely 
when she heard the rumble of wheels. The 
Arnim carriage came into sight on the highway 

below. It was returning from D . She 

quickened her steps; she had only a half-hour’s 
start of the travelers. 

Her figure stood out in bold relief against 
the sky, but no one saw her except the sea- 


198 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER 


birds hovering over the Schloss. The Count’s 
apartments were lighted dimly ; those on the 
other side of the Schloss were in darkness. 
She pushed back an overhanging vine and 
looked into the room ; no one was there. 
The angel-heads supporting the mantel-piece 
smiled in the light of the flickering logs, but 
the wainscoting seemed full of imps’ faces. 
The weather was growing colder in those 
September days. She drew her mantle more 
closely around her. All was still. The garden 
was flooded with moonlight; the shadows of 
the vases on the terrace were black spots upon 
the green lawn. She listened ; then raised 
her hand and tried the window. It yielded to 
her touch. In a moment she was inside the 
room and the curtain dropped behind her, 
against prying eyes. How her heart beat ! It 
seemed as though she could hear the great 
clock ticking outside as it did that night four 
years ago. She drew the bolt on the door 
leading to the hall. Now she was safe at 
last. 

What if she had forgotten the secret? No ; 
the scroll-work sank into the oak at her 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


199 


touch and left the aperture free. It was full 
of dusty papers. She put her hand in and 
drew out the pasteboard box filled with crum- 
pled letters, untouched since she had thrust 
it into the hiding-place. Her hand trembled. 
She almost let the box drop upon the table. 
The cover had fallenback into the closet, but 
she did not search for it. First she must close 
the panel and bind the papers in a convenient 
packet to hide under her cloak. 

She was on her knees groping for the spring; 
the cherubs heads resumed their places. Sud- 
denly her face blanched with terror, for in the 
mirror over the mantel-piece she saw the door 
moving — not the one leading to the hall, this 
was still bolted, but that opening on a corridor 
connecting with Count Arnim's apartments, to 
which he alone had the key. Without rising 
she crept behind the curtain that hung over 
the entrance to the bedroom, and pressed her- 
self out of sight against the wall. The door 
creaked slightly as it fell back into place. 
Some one was there ! She would be discovered, 
and the papers found. Why had she made this 
wild attempt to secure them ? For years they 


200 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


had lain hidden from mortal eye ; now hers 
was the hand to bring them to light. 

Still no noise of footsteps. Had a ghost 
arisen to startle her ? She could see the box on 
the table, but dared not move. She pushed the 
curtain aside to see who the intruder was; and 
her eyes fell on a withered hand extended 
over the box. A low exclamation of horror 
escaped her lips. It was the Count, dressed in 
a long gown and a skull-cap, his feet covered 
with list shoes, which deadened his footsteps ; 
his white hair fell on his stooping shoulders, 
and as he looked suspiciously from right 
to left, his black eyes gleaming, she shrank 
back out of sight. He drew a long, sealed 
parchment from under his gown and pushed it 
into the box among the rustling papers. 

“ They’ll never find it now,” he muttered. 
“ She shall never reign at Carlshohe. She 
thought to deceive me by sweet words. As if 
I did not know her heart. Curse thee, Hulda 
Golof!” 

The bitter hatred of his tone made her 
shudder. She felt as though caught in a trap. 
The only means of escape, the window, was 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


201 


barred by his presence. And yet better risk 
death at this crazy man’s hands than dishonor 
through the discovery of those documents. He 
was moving towards the door ; the way was 
clear ; one spring and she might dash past 
him through the window. A crazy man 
could not denounce her. But could she let 
him take the evidence of her guilt? His hand 
was already on the door when she leaped for- 
ward and, pushing it to, confronted him. He 
started back in speechless rage, and waved her 
off, clutching the box tightly with one hand. 

“ You would steal it from me ! ” he exclaimed, 
“and defraud my. children.” 

She advanced as he retreated, and seized 
him by the arm. After all, he was but a feeble 
old man. They stood opposite the fireplace 
on a Russian bearskin which slipped beneath 
his feet. 

With a sudden movement he flung the box 
into the fire and stood before it, warding her 
off menacingly. 

“ Let them burn,” he whispered gleefully. 
“ See the blue flames leap up. Soon there will 
be only ashes.” 


202 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


He turned back and clapped his hands like 
a child, seeming to forget he^ presence. The 
papers shriveled into a black mass upon the 
coals. She waited only to make sure of their 
destruction ; then turned to fly. 

The carriage drove into the court-yard, and 
Paul’s voice was calling outside. One mo- 
ment’s delay might be fatal. The old man 
seemed not to notice her, but when she made 
a movement towards the window he turned and 
grasped her by the cloak. Frantically she tried 
to free herself. Steps were echoing along the 
corridor. They had missed the master and 
were coming to seek him. She pushed him 
back with all her force, and he fell with a sharp 
cry, striking his head against the carved oak 
table. 

He lay quite still. Could it be that he was 
dead ? 

Some one rattled at the lock. She must 
save herself at any Tost ; and pushing back 
the window she made good her escape just as 
Paul burst open the door and found the master 
lying unconscious on the floor. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


T hey lifted him on to the little bed in 
Ulrich's room, where he lay unconscious 
for hours. The doctor could not foretell the 
end. His constitution was strong, perhaps it 
might withstand the shock. No one knew how 
he had escaped the nurse’s vigilance. The cur- 
tains were still closed around the bed. She had 
supposed him sleeping. Perhaps, fatigued with 
the strain of her last engagement, she had 
nodded a moment over the fire. 

Paul and the doctor had heard his cry as 
they entered the hall. 

There was nothing in the quiet room to give 
any clue except a charred mass on the fire. 

The curtains were drawn, the window was 
shut. There was no evidence of a struggle. 
He had simply been stricken down. In search- 
ing about Paul found fragments of parchment 
among the logs. A red seal was attached to 


204 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


one of them, which led him to believe that the 
old Count had destroyed his will. 

Prasseda’s presence in the sick-chamber of 
her grandfather did not surprise Paul as much 
as she had feared. He had been prepared for 
it by Schultz’s description of his English nurse, 
who resembled the Count’s daughter so won- 
derfully. As yet there had been no explana- 
tion between them. She placed her finger on 
her lips and held out her hand to him, then 
pointed to the dying man. 

Her heart was too full to speak. 

As the day began to break there were signs 
of returning consciousness. The doctor and 
Paul watched anxiously, hidden from view, 
while Prasseda knelt at the head of the bed 
and buried her face in his pillow. 

The silence was oppressive. 

At last the Count opened his eyes and looked 
slowly around the chamber. 

How came he to be in Ulrich’s room ? 
Years had passed since he had visited this 
place, so full of ghostly memories. By that 
window his son had sat in his boyish 
days, mending his kite. He could see him 


ODDS AGAINST HER. . 205 

now with the sunshine on his hair and the 
merry light in his eyes, so like his mother s. 
There by the door he had stood for the last 
time, his face white with passion. Never 
should his father look on him again. There 
was a gulf between them deeper than the sea. 
He had been true to his vow. Even in death 
the breach had not been healed. Why had 
they awakened him to bitter memories? True, 
Prasseda had comforted him during the short 
span of her young life. It seemed as though 
he had heard her voice of late, sweet tones 
that fell upon his heart like music to quell its 
pain. This, too, was fancy. His daughterly 
under the stones of the chapel, dead long ago. 

She had fretted for her brother, poor child ! 
God had been merciful ! He alone was left 
like a column in the desert, to bear the brunt 
of life’s storms. Some day he should go, 
and Hulda would reign at Carlshohe — she 
and Friedrich. She was false and shallow, 
but by his contract his elder nephew should 
inherit the Castle. Could he disinherit him 
because he hated a woman? That would be 
injustice. Ulrich had called him unjust. 


ODi:>S AGAINST HER. 


So6 

There had been enough wrong-doing in the 
past. Quarrels sometimes ended in death. 
Friedrich should have the Schloss, and he 
would curtail that woman’s power in some 
way. 

Then he remembered that Friedrich too was 
dead. Hulda was of no moment. 

He had always liked Franz, although they 
disagreed at times. Still, the boy had pluck. 
How dreary it was in that room ! The saints’ 
heads in the wainscoting were dark with age. 
He must have the ceiling polished. 

Hark! some one was praying, by his bed- 
side. Who could be praying for him now ? 
He had no friends. That brown head was like 
Prasseda’s. He was mad, or dreaming, for his 
little girl had died years ago. Soon he would 
follow her. Perhaps he had not always been 
kind to the mother. 

No ; he did not dream. A soft cheek nestled 
against his hand, and Prasseda’s eyes looked 
into his. No, Ulrich’s eyes. The same true 
look in their azure depths that had met his 
chiding when the boy failed to do some trivial 
task. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


207 


How sad they were ! She raised herself up 
and drew nearer. Yes ; his daughter had re- 
turned to him. With a cry of' joy he clasped 
her to his heart. Then consciousness left him, 
and he fell back among his pillows in a swoon. 

Prasseda bent over him anxiously, and the 
doctor shook his head. Would he die in this 
faint so like death ? After a while he revived 
and called her name. 

“ Where am I ? Paul, are you here ? ” Then 
turning to the doctor, who held the feeble pulse, 
he added with a gleam of humor, Ah ! 
Schultz, I am not a dead man yet." 

The doctor and Paul exchanged a significant 
glance. 

The Count von Arnim had regained his rea- 
son. 

He looked questioningly at Prasseda as if 
puzzled by her presence. 

“ Do I see visions?" he whispered, taking 
Paul’s hand. “ Has my child risen from the 
grave to haunt me? Who is that kneeling by 
my bedside ? " 

“ Grandfather ! " murmured Prasseda. 

“ I have no grandchild," he answered hoarsely, 


2o8 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


drawing away from her. My son is dead. I 
drove him from me with curses.’' 

“ And he sent me to ask your forgiveness. 
Grandfather, I am his child. Do not cast me 
from you.” 

“ His child — Ulrich’s child ! ” exclaimed the 
old man joyfully. “ I have grieved for my poor 
son. His child must never leave me.” 

He passed his hand caressingly over her hair, 
and kissed her forehead. 

“You must tell me, when I am stronger, how 
it happened. Why did I not know the truth ? ” 

It was evident that he had never seen the 
papers. 

“ Prasseda’s mother wrote you years ago, and 
sent the documents to prove her child’s iden- 
tity,” said Paul. 

The Count shook his head. 

“ r never saw them.” 

The doctor stroked his beard, reflectively. 
“ He is quite himself,” he said in answor to 
Paul’s inquiry, — “quite rational. How long 
will it last? Ah ! I cannot say.” 

Schultz looked grave. Evidently the crisis 
was serious. The Count could not account for 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


209 


his presence in Ulrich’s rooms until Paul 
brought him the pieces of his will. Then he 
remembered that there had been a struggle. 
He pressed his hand to his brow and tried to 
recollect. Like a flash it all came back to him. 

“ Hulda was here. I see her now. How 
wickedly she looked at me ! She would have 
killed me ! ” he exclaimed suddenly. “ I 
burned the will. She tried to take it from me.” 

“ Has he lost his mind again? ” asked Paul, 
in an undertone. 

“ He seems quite sane. There is no fever ; 
his eye is calm, his mind seems clear.” 

“ But how could it be ? ” 

“ She struggled with me,” continued the 
Count. “ I tried to hold her. She escaped by 
that window ; but the will was burned. They 
will never have Carlshohe now.” 

He laughed low to himself. 

“ He must be mad. Countess Hulda could 
not have been here at that time of night,” re- 
marked the doctor. 

“Humph!” responded Paul. “Nothing is 
impossible where she is concerned. You don’t 
know her.” 


210 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


An hour later the old man had fallen into a 
fitful slumber, still holding his grand-daugh- 
ter’s hand. She had been talking to him of 
her childhood and of her mother. He listened 
quietly, and murmured something about mak- 
ing reparation. He bade her sit where the 
light might fall on her face. He wished to 
carry the memory of it with him, out into 
that shadow-land where all his loved ones 
waited. 

The end was drawing nigh. They could dis- 
guise the fact no longer. Slowly the light was 
fading from his face, his eyes were growing dim, 
but they turned toward his grandchild, till his 
eyelids closed in sleep. 

Towards noon he roused himself and spoke 
to Dr. Schultz. 

“ I have been very ill,” he said, smiling 
mournfully. “ But I am well now.” 

“ Yes, Count, with care you will be.” 

The old man shook his head. 

*‘My days are spent, man. Tell me the 
truth. I feel myself grow weaker,” 

“No, grandfather,” replied Prasseda, sob- 
bing convulsively. “You must not die.” 


ODDS AGAINST NED. 


21 1 


Mein Kind,'" he whispered tenderly, “ it is 
too late.” 

A few moments afterwards he called Paul 
to his bedside and placed her hand in his. 

“ Protect her,” he said in a broken whisper. 
“She must have everything, everything. Re- 
member!' 

His countenance assumed an ashen hue ; 
only his eyes seemed alive. 

Suddenly he started up as if entranced. 

“Hush! Hear the voices calling ! It is too 
late, too late.” 

And with a sigh he fell back dead. 


CHAPTER XX. 


W HEN Hulda heard the news at Rabcn- 
horst a load was lifted from her heart. 
She could breathe freely now that her enemy 
was dead. She expected Franz in time for the 
funeral, for which great preparations were being 
made. He had left all these matters in Paul’s 
hands, assuming himself to be the heir. Baron 
Kempen did not undeceive him. He would 
wait till they met to acquaint him with Pras- 
seda’s story, and accepted the charge without 
further parley. 

Hulda ordered heavy mourning from Berlin. 
As prospective mistress of Carlshohe, no form of 
etiquette, however trifling, should be omitted. 
What would Egon say when he heard of her 
triumph? Would he regret having left her 
victor of the field ? More than two months had 
passed since the night when she drove Prasseda 
away by her bitter revelations. Where was 
Prasseda now ? Had Egon’s love for her 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


213 


grown cool ? Their short-lived happiness was 
hardly worth the sacrifice. She paced her 
room in a sudden accession of joy at her 
enemy’s discomfiture. 

She wished the Count could have lived to 
learn how she had outwitted him. 

Franz arrived just before the funeral. 
There was no opportunity for explanation. 
Paul tried to tell him that Prasseda was at the 
Schloss, but his cousin silenced him with a look. 
He would hear nothing of her or his brother 
Egon. Her behavior justified him in the belief 
that she was an impostor as Hulda had inti- 
mated. He alone had been blind. Paul 
shrugged his shoulders. Let him learn the 
worst without preparation, since he was so 
stubborn. 

^‘We can discuss this situation better after 
the funeral,” said Franz. “This is not an 
opportune moment.” 

And so the time came when the old Count 
von Arnim was to be laid among the graves of 
his ancestors. 

The little chapel was full of people. Prom- 
inent among the mourners sat Hulda, dressed 


214 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


in trappings of deepest woe. Her black-bor- 
dered handkerchief was held ostentatiously to 
her eyes. She appeared to weep for a man who 
had insulted her during life and disinherited 
her in death. Every now and then Franz 
would glance at her sympathetically and press 
her hand. 

Coming to Carlshohe had roused sad remi- 
niscences, for she had visited there during poor 
Friedrich’s lifetime. But he should make her 
forget the sad experiences of her life. It was 
noble in her to overlook the Count’s vindictive 
spirit. He loved her all the more for her gener- 
osity. PoorHulda! 

Paul had advised Prasseda not to attend the 
funeral, and worn out with the excitement and 
grief of her grandfather’s death, she gladly fol- 
lowed his advice. She had told him of Egon’s 
visit to Carlshohe. Paul was now convinced 
that Egon had gone to America to replace the 
papers, but his chance of success was remote. 
He had few clues. Old Minerva, who had been 
in Miss Barbara’s ” family for years, knew 
nothing of importance. An army chaplain had 
performed the ceremony ; the witnesses were 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


215 


probably dead or scattered, and Ulrich died two 
months later in battle. The only records had 
been sent to Carlshohe. If this impulsive, 
headstrong woman had only had certified 
copies of them made, much trouble might 
have been saved ; but women were always 
fools. Their best chance lay in finding the 
original documents, and Egon was merely 
wasting his time. He hoped hourly for his 
return. 

What would become of Prasseda if she failed 
to prove her claim? Franz, influenced by 
Hulda, might dispute it. If Egon did return 
with the requisite evidence, matters could be 
settled to every one’s satisfaction. 

The services were over. The family had 
assembled in the drawing-room. It had been 
rumored that the Count had destroyed his will, 
but few people believed it, although no little 
curiosity was evinced at the disclosures which 
Baron Kempen had promised as forthcoming. 

Anna was seated on a sofa, wringing her 
hands. 

Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! ” she exclaimed. “ Poor 
old Count Arnim, how sad his death is; and 


2i6 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


one never knows who may be the next 
to go.” 

Paul made an effort to calm his sister, but 
without avail. 

“ I hope he has made a sensible will, and 
remembered all his relations who loved him.” 

“ Yes,” answered Paul ironically; “all who 
loved him are remembered.” 

“ Then I shall not be forgotten,” she said 
briskly. “ I doted on him, but I had little 
chance to show my devotion. He was such a 
hateful old man, and took one up so short.” 

Paul stood looking out of the window with 
an expression of anxiety on his face. The 
train from Hamburg was just due ; he had sent 
the carriage to the station on the chance of 
meeting Egon. Since Prasseda’s revelation he 
had decided to telegraph the agents of the 
Hamburg line, thinking he might be on board 
of the incoming steamer. 

“What detains you, Paul?” asked Hulda. 
“Why not begin the reading of the will at 
once?” 

She was eager to have the ordeal over. 

“ Egon has been summoned,” whispered her 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


217 


betrothed. He could not mention the boy’s 
name without repugnance. 

“Has he not forfeited everything?” she 
returned indignantly. 

“ It was a form ; he has no legal rights. But 
you know Uncle Heinrich always regarded him 
as one of us, although he was only our adopted 
brother.” 

For the first time in years, he alluded to the 
fact that there was no near bond of relationship 
between them. 

A hush of anticipation fell on those assem- 
bled, as Paul came forward, followed by the 
doctor. 

“My friends,” he said, “we have gathered 
here to-day out of respect to our late kinsman 
Louis, Count Arnim of Carlshohe, to listen to 
his wishes regarding the final disposition of his 
property. Every one has responded except 
Egon, Lieutenant Graf von Arnim, the late 
count’s distant cousin and adopted nephew, 
whom we believe to be traveling in foreign 
countries in ignorance of his uncle’s death. 
Some of you know that the late Count made a 
will ten years ago by which he bequeathed his 


2i8 


ODDS AGAINST NED.- 


property, landed and personal, to the eldest 
son of the living branch represented by Franz, 
Count Arnim, of England. It is my duty to 
inform you that shortly before his death the 
late master of Carlshohe regained his reason 
and destroyed this will, leaving everything he 
died possessed of to his grand-daughter and 
heiress at law, Prasseda, Countess von Arnim, 
whom I now have the pleasure of presenting 
to you.” 

With these words he pushed back the por- 
tiere and led Prasseda forward. Her eyes 
sought Franz eagerly. Would he forgive her? 
His look of scorn answered that he would lis- 
ten to no explanation. 

Hulda started violently when Paul finished. 
An expression of fury spread over her face. 
What right had they to declare the Count 
sane? The people were amazed at the course 
things had taken, and looked in surprise at the 
girl who had risen from the earth to confront 
them. One and all, they were against her. 
Paul alone was her friend. 

“ Who says that the Count was sane ? ” asked 
Hulda, vainly endeavoring to appear calm. 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


219 


“ I was present during his last hours/' replied 
Dr. Schultz firmly. “ He was in entire pos- 
session of his faculties at the time of his 
death. He destroyed his will in favor of his 
grand-child, whom he recognized as his law- 
ful heir.” 

Hulda could have told another tale, but her 
tongue was tied. Could she confess her part in 
that fearful night, when she pushed him back, 
and he fell apparently dead ? Dr. Schultz was 
a man of unblemished reputation, and Paul 
was a witness to the truth of his statement. 

“ It is a conspiracy,” she exclaimed bitterly. 

“Hush, Hulda,” said Franz. “If this is 
true, let Prasseda have Carlshohe. I am rich 
enough without it, and the Count had the 
right to dispose of his property as he chose.” 

“ The right to give this magnificent estate 
to an impostor? Will you allow yourself to be 
robbed in this manner? First let her prove 
her legal claim. Who was her mother? Are 
you not heir at law ? ” 

Prasseda met her defiant gaze proudly; her 
face was flushed with emotion. 

“ My grandfather recognized my claim,” she 


220 


ODDS A GAIN'S T HER. 


answered. That vindicates my mother’s 
honor.” 

If looks could have killed, Hulda would have 
slain her then. 

“Where is your lover who fled with you 
from Felsenstein ? ” she exclaimed, with hatred 
in her tone. 

The young girl cast a glance of surprise at 
the unsympathetic faces surrounding her. Her 
lover ! What did it mean ? Of what did they 
accuse her? 

There was a stir in the anteroom. The at- 
tention was diverted from this extraordinary 
scene by hushed exclamations and whispers 
outside. Directly the door opened to admit 
Egon, covered with the dust of travel. There 
was a dangerous light in his eyes as he turned 
on Hulda. He had caught her denunciation, 
and her eyes fell under his look of scorn. 
Franz raised his hand threateningly, but Paul 
held him back. 

“Wretched boy,” he exclaimed, “have you 
come back at last to answer to me, whom you 
have bitterly wronged ? ” 

Egon looked at him calmly. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


221 


“You have believed that woman’s lies, 
Franz. I left the country, hoping to repair the 
wrong she had done an innocent girl. I left 
no stone unturned to defeat her ends, but I 
have failed. The papers proving Ulrich’s rhar- 
riage cannot be duplicated. The records are 
lost, the witnesses are dead; but I charge her 
here before you all with having destroyed the 
original papers. She confessed her guilt to 
me the night I left Felsenstein.” 

Hulda’s face never changed. Except for her 
pallor, one might have fancied she had not 
heard him. Her lip curled, her eyelids drooped 
proudly. The man was mad. He told the 
tale merely to cover his defeat. She destroy 
valuable documents? To what end, pray? 
No, she scorned to deny a charge so prepos- 
terous. She met Franz’s eye fearlessly. He 
read her thoughts like an open book. His Hulda 
was incapable of treachery. The boy he had 
loved and cherished was a villain. 

“You shall answer to me for this! ” he ex- 
claimed sharply, the red color surging to his 
brow. 

“ To you ? ” replied Egon, contemptuously. 


222 ODDS AGAINST HER. 

“You doubted the honor of a girl as pure as 
snow. You smirched her fair name at the in- 
stigation of that womian. Oh ! I have heard it 
all. No, ril not answer to you.” 

Hulda bit her lip at this defence of her rival. 
Her rage knew no bounds. 

“Coward!” she cried, “to attack me and 
deny my betrothed the right to defend me.” 

“ Your betrothed ! ” he repeated in surprise. 

Before he could utter another word, Franz 
broke from Paul’s detaining grasp and struck 
him a savage blow. He staggered, then threw 
out his hand to steady himself. 

He was deadly pale. It seemed as though 
he had suffered death in that blow from his 
brother’s hand. He met his eyes firmly. The 
company stood breathless while he waited. 

Hulda smiled and raised her eyebrows slight- 
ly. They doubted his courage. 

It was Franz, his benefactor, his more than 
brother, who had struck him down. That 
blow obliterated all claim of kinship. 

“ I am at your service, Graf von Arnim,” he 
said coldly, and left the room. 


CHAPTER XXI. 



HE sun was setting in a bank of heavy 


X clouds which lay threatening on the hori- 
zon. The night would bring in a heavy storm. 
An ominous silence had fallen on the Schloss 
and all within. Old Lena crept up to Prasseda’s 
door and listened. She could hear her pacing 
the floor in despair, and felt helpless to relieve 
her misery. She hated Master Friedrich’s 
widow. She was the cause of all their trouble. 
The people rejoiced that the Junker’s daughter 
had come home to reign at Carlshohe. Her gen- 
tleness had won their allegiance, while the Rus- 
sian’s imperious manner roused their opposition. 

Prasseda tried in vain to find some way of 
tiding over the present crisis. If these broth- 
ers should fight, their blood would be upon her 
soul. She had been a miserable failure, bring- 
ing only sorrow to those who had befriended 


her. 


In vain did Paul attempt to explain the situa- 


224 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


tion. Franz would not listen. She should 
have trusted him. If she had written him the 
letter would have been found on the writing- 
table in his room. Hulda had taken good care 
to suppress it. It was a mad freak, her coming 
in disguise to Carlshohe alone with Dr. Schultz. 
How could she know that Egon would leave 
Felsenstein at the same time and make compli- 
cations? She had thought solely of her moth* 
er’s name. Franz suspected they were trying to 
shield her. He would not believe that Egon 
had not accompanied her to Berlin, or that 
her going secretly from Felsenstein was not 
prompted by love for his brother. He was com- 
pletely under Hulda’s influence, and thought 
what she bade him. 

Unless Egon would retract this charge against 
his betrothed, he should answ^er for it with his 
life. His fury against the boy was intense ; he 
would not listen to reason. He saw in him only 
Hulda’s traducer. 

Franz had an interview with Hulda which 
served to fan the flame against Egon to hatred. 
If she could not triumph at least she would pull 
the house down about their ears. She told him 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


225 


that Egon had loved her once. She had not 
favored his suit, and out of revenge he had ma- 
ligned her. The story was incredible. Those 
papers had never been received by the Count. 
How then could she have stolen and destroyed 
them? She begged him to forgive his foolish 
brother, but so artfully did she word this plea 
that he felt only more angered against him 
after she had done. 

Forgive him? Yes, when he had humbled 
himself in the dust and begged her pardon on 
his knees. He should learn that she had a de- 
fender. 

They were sitting in the library by the 
very table where she had tampered with the 
mail that night four years before. She lighted 
her candle and bade him good-night. He stood 
up and took her by both hands, looking deep 
into her eyes as if to read her soul. 

“ Hulda, sometimes I have felt that you did 
not love me," he said wistfully. “ Now that we 
are parting, tell me that I have misjudged you. 
Let me feel some response to this passion which 
is killing me. Don't you know that I would give 
my life for you gladly if I thought you cared. 


226 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Gladly ? Why, I would throw myself over the 
cliff to save you pain. Listen, don’t smile.” 
His pressure on her hands hurt her. 

“You think me foolish and wild? All my 
life I have yearned for love. I wanted to 
feel that I was necessary to some one’s exist- 
ence. You have put me off, made light of my 
feeling. God, how you have maddened me by 
your mocking laughter, — and yet how sweet it 
was ! It thrilled me ; even when it cut deepest 
I loved you. You could not help it, nor 
could I. Now that we are parting, tell me that 
you love me. Tell me.” 

He clasped her ardently to his breast. His 
vehemence stifled her. She closed her eyes 
against his passionate gaze. She opened them 
and answered it. 

“Yes, Franz, I love you,” she replied. 

At the moment she spoke the truth. He was 
her avenger. Egon had denounced her before 
the world. He had accused her of a crime. 
She would have killed him as he stood there 
that afternoon, had she been strong enough. 
The outcome of this duel would be Egon’s 
death. The thought filled her with exultation. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


227 


He should feel her power. Franz would avenge 
her. 

At that moment she spoke the truth. She 
loved him. 

“ Good-bye/' he whispered, kissing her on 
the lips. “ Good-night ! God bless you ! ” 

The apartment where the old Count had 
died was closed. Hulda slept beyond. She 
was obliged to pass through it to reach her 
rooms. Her hand was on the knob of Ulrich’s 
door, but she hesitated to enter that haunted 
chamber. She stumbled in the darkness and 
her candle flared. The corridor was draughty, 
for a storm was rising. She hesitated, and 
turned back doubtingly. Should she call 
Franz? He would think her childish. No, 
a clear conscience lends us courage. She must 
simulate what she did not feel. 

The door opened noiselessly at her touch. 
Her steps echoed on the polished floor. There 
was no fire on the hearth ; the room was deso- 
late. The lightning flashed into the darkened 
corners and terrified her. She set the candle 
down with a trembling hand, and sank breath- 
less on a chair, 


228 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


There he had lain. She could see his white 
face turned upward and those sightless eyes. 
Should she ever forget them ! The thunder 
rolled in the distance and the rain began to fall 
in torrents. Outside the surf lashed against 
the rocks in wild fury. Why did she not tear 
herself away from this scene of horror? 

Suddenly her eyes fell on the scroll-work 
near the floor, and rested there with fascina- 
tion. The wood-work needed mending ; a 
long, narrow crack was breaking half-way up 
the wall. One of the cherubs’ heads had sunk 
into the oak. 

Then the truth dawned on her. 

The panel was open. It had not slipped back 
into the socket. That night in her hurry she 
had omitted to shut it tight. 

She looked about her fearfully. What if 
some one should come? The rain fell steadily. 
No one would of his free will enter that ghostly 
chamber. 

She knelt down behind the table and crept 
towards the wall. Slowly the panel rolled back. 
The cover of the box which held the papers 
had fallen in like a wedge to prevent its clos- 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 229 

ing. She pulled it out with sudden force, and 
something white rustled bn the floor. Stoop- 
ing, she picked it up, and held it towards the 
light. In her hand were two long papers fast- 
ened together by a yellow ribbon. She untied 
it mechanically. Were those papers alive? 
Could she not destroy them? How had they 
escaped the flames? 

This is to certify that Ulrich von 
Arnim — ” she read no more. The truth came 
to her with fearful force. She had watched 
them burn until nothing remained but ashes — 
letters, picture, and everything of no import, 
except the evidence wanting to make Prasseda 
heiress of Carlshohe ; this by some mischance 
had been caught in the cover and saved to 
brand her as a thief and perjurer. 

What should she do ? 

The wind blew round the Schloss in fitful 
gusts and shook the shutters. There was no 
fire on the hearth. Her maid was waiting 
in her room. What should she do ? These 
papers must be destroyed at once. She could 
not risk having them in her possession a mo- 
ment. 


230 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


“ This is to certify that Ulrich von Arnim — ” 
she could read it in letters of fire upon the 
wall ; others might come and read it too. A 
gust of wind blew out her candle. She was 
alone in the dark with her secret. 

Flickers of lurid light filled the room and 
blinded her. She heard the door softly open- 
ing behind her. The Count seemed to stand 
there, an avenging specter, holding his gaunt 
hands over the fire to warm them. 

“ Let it burn,” he said, wagging his head 
with horrible cunning. His eyes glowed in 
their empty sockets. The head was a skull. 

“What are those papers you are hiding from 
me?” he seemed to cry. “The certificate of 
my grand-daughter’s birth and my son’s mar- 
riage ? ” 

Was she going mad? If she could only get 
out of the house away from the demons that 
pursued her. The saints gleamed down at her 
amid the vivid lightning and laughed at her 
terror. Where could she fly ? The tapping of 
a stick along the hall warned her that Lena 
was near. She sprang behind a curtain to hide 
herself from the old hag’s eyes. She would- 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 231 

denounce her. She would have no pity. The 
window blew open with a crash. The old crone 
would come to shut it and see her crouching 
there. 

Out into the night she fled like one possessed. 
The papers seemed to burn her hand. Should 
she throw them away? No ; the wind would 
blow them back again. Should she tear them 
to bits the. pieces would be found and put 
together. If she could reach the quicksands 
she might bury them deep away from the sight 
of curious eyes. 

Half maddened with terror she reached the 
cliff. The spray dashed into her face and 
blinded her. Voices of furies screamed in her 
ears. All her past misdeeds rose to confront 
her, little omissions of her childhood, long 
forgotten. • 

Still she held the papers tightly clutched 
in her hand. 

In descending the rough steps of the cliff she 
slipped and fell. Her thin dress was drenched. 
Her hair, loosened by the wind, lashed in her 
face ; yet she stumbled on. Her one idea was 
to reach the quicksand. Then all danger 


232 ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 

would be past. Those papers must be sunk in 
the sand. Egon should not triumph. 

The rocks loomed up, dark and forbidding. 
Now she had passed them. Beyond that stretch 
of woods lay the treacherous beach. Would 
her strength last ? How dark the night was! 
The trees slipped by like black ghosts. The 
storm was increasing. A deafening clap of 
thunder, simultaneous with jagged, darting 
lightning, stunned her. She clung to a tree 
for support, but the remorseless wind whirled 
her into space, and she fell face downward in 
the sea-grass near the shore. 


CHAPTER XXII. 



HE storm still beat against the walls of 


X Carlshohe. Egon listened to the moaning 
wind, and shuddered. An hour after sunrise 
he would meet his brother under the great oak 
in the forest. 

In vain had Paul called them savages, and 
besought them to desist. Franz answered with 
a lowering brow, and Egon was silent. 

He had spoken the truth. For Prasseda’s 
sake he must not withdraw his charge, even if 
Franz killed him. 

Egon put his affairs in order. He had little 
trouble in doing this. His earthly possessions 
were few and easily disposed of. Should he see 
Prasseda? Better not. It would unnerve him. 
He would give his life for her; how could she 
doubt his love. No, he would not see her. 

Paul came and sat with him an hour. All 
his cynicism had gone ; he besought Egon to 
listen to reason. It was a child’s quarrel, un- 


234 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER, 


worthy of them both. Egon answered him 
with a smile. Then his companion left him in 
disgust. 

The fire burned low on the hearth. He was 
thinking of his life. 

What a record to leave behind ! Not one 
deed to live after him. To be sure, he was 
young, and had not had much time. Still he 
might have done so much better if he had 
tried. 

Why had he not died in Paris when danger 
threatened him? He would not have been 
there to stand opposite his brother’s pistol in 
the morning. The hand had' saved him for a 
cruel fate. The hand ! For weeks he had not 
seen it. His ancestress had withdrawn her pro- 
tection. She thought it no longer worth while 
to guide him, and she was right. He was a 
useless fellow, better out of the way. It had 
led him to Prasseda, and protected him from 
snares. He wished he might see it again. 

He took up a candle and went out into the 
dining-hall. There was the portrait, a copy of 
which had startled him at Felsenstein. The 
original had more spirit, the eyes seemed alive. 


ODDS AC AIN ST IIF.k. 235 

but in the wavering light of the candle the 
figure looked ghostly. 

“ She did me more harm than good,” he 
thought, with a sigh. 

He saw his face reflected in a mirror as he 
passed. It was pale and weary. He' must get 
rest for the encounter. They might think he 
was afraid. 

He threw himself down as he was upon his 
couch, and fell into a fitful sleep. 

He fancied some one was bending over him, 
and started up. The day was beginning to 
dawn. Birds sang in the vines outside his 
window, the sun was shining aslant through 
the trees. 

He rose and threw open the blinds ; the dew 
glistened on the lawn, and little cobwebs lay 
like film upon the grass. 

It would soon be time. 

The house oppressed him, and he went out 
to the edge of the cliff. The sea was calm 
again ; the storm had gone and left no trace 
behind except the white-capped waves. The 
sea-gulls wheeled screaming round his head. 
He turned back towards the house. 


236 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


Near the edge of the lawn a shadowy figure 
stood, dressed in gray robes, that were hardly 
distinguishable in the clouds of vapor rising 
from the ground. 

He passed his hand over his eyes absently. 
He was not fully awake. It was the fog that 
obscured his vision. He looked again. Now 
the form had vanished. 

The sun cast little rays among the tangled 
green. He saw the figure deeper in the wood, 
hovering like a column of mist among the 
tree-trunks. He moved towards it uncon- 
sciously. 

Snails were lying in his path ; the air was 
heavy with the odor of moist earth. Squirrels 
darted across the rocks and sought refuge in 
the neighboring trees ; still the phantom floated 
on before his eyes. 

Suddenly she raised her hand and beckoned. 
He could see the ring glistening on her 
finger. He would solve this mystery before 
he died. 

On he wandered by the trunks of fallen 
trees. She passed lightly over all obstacles 
with an undulating motion, as though she were 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


237 


upheld by wings. He kept his eyes fixed on 
her, and noticed not the path he took. 

Deeper into the wood, he followed. Still 
she hid her face. A gray veil covered her 
from head to foot ; her eyes shining through 
it seemed to hold him spellbound. The up- 
raised hand still beckoned him on. How the 
birds sang ! The brook, swollen to a torrent 
by the recent storm, rushed by. The soft 
morning air fanned his cheek and rustled 
through the underbrush at his feet. 

The hour would soon be past. He must 
return. Franz would be waiting. No, that 
relentless hand held him by a spell. 

He was gaining on her now. The snake- 
head was quite visible, with its wicked diamond 
eyes, and the tapering fingers looked pale in the 
morning light. She wound her arms around 
the trunks of trees as she went on. She was 
faltering; her light steps grew weary; her 
head drooped. No;' she regained her strength 
and renewed her speed. He had not reached 
her yet. 

A leafy screen fell between them, a tree 
whose branches touched the ground. 


ODDS J GAINS 7' HER. 


238 

Had the earth opened at her feet ? His eager 
hands swept the green barrier down, and there, 
at the foot of the tree, she lay trembling like a 
wounded bird, her face still covered by the 
veil. No phantom, but a woman — his cousin 
Prasseda. 

He knelt down and took her in his arms. Her 
heart fluttered against his breast wildly. Her 
strength was almost spent. Tenderly he threw 
back the veil that hid her face. Their lips met 
in a passionate kiss. What time had they to 
think of right. He knew only that he held 
her in his arms. 

She loved him. She clung to him with 
a passionate entreaty more eloquent than 
words. He must not leave her. All through 
the night she had thought of some expedient 
to hold him from his purpose. At first uncon- 
sciously in Paris her hand had saved his life. 
Afterwards while waiting on the balcony she 
had seen him through the lattice, not knowing 
that he was her cousin. She stretched out her 
hand to take up the flowers lying on the rail- 
ing, and held him back again from danger. She 
was staying at the hotel with friends who 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


239 


crossed from America by the same ship, waiting 
for Franz to join her and take her to Ger- 
many. 

Later, when they met at Felsenstein, she 
recognized him, and when he told the story 
of the hand determined to keep secret her 
identity. He might have foolish fancies about 
her. The ring, inherited from her father, who 
brought it to America, she never wore ex- 
cept when Egon was not present. She always 
kept her hands gloved after his first warning. 
Once he had said the hand would lead him 
anywhere. He would obey its bidding blindly. 
Then in the despair of the past night she had 
hit upon this scheme, to mislead him in the 
mazes of the wood, when he must perforce 
miss his appointment. She thought not of his 
honor, but his life, which he would give for her. 
She knew how strongly Franz was enraged 
against them both. He would kill Egon with- 
out remorse. Once his hate was roused he was 
implacable. It was a desperate chance, but it 
succeeded. She found her lover sleeping on 
the sofa in his room, and bending over awoke 
him by a touch ; then she led him away by 


240 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


force of will from danger. Now they must 
unwind her clinging arms .to reach him. 

He gazed long into her eyes, and held her 
close for fear that death might come even then 
to part them. It was a bitter moment, to 
clasp her thus and know that he would never 
feel her embrace or look into her face again. 
He kissed the hand which had saved him from 
danger in the past. This time it would not 
avail. 

Then rising from his knees, he unclasped her 
arms and strove to put her from him, but she 
resisted his efforts. 

“You shall not go, Egon!” she cried in 
terror. “ What is my life without you ? Let 
them think what they like. Franz is unworthy 
of your hate. You shall not risk your life for 
me. I love you, Egon, do you hear! I love 
you. Your life is not your own to throw 
away.” 

“ My darling,” he answered tenderly, “ I 
must go.” 

“ I know all you would say. You have been 
insulted. You must vindicate your honor. 
Hulda is your enemy; she wishes your death. 


ODDS AGAINS7' HER. 


241 


Don’t you know that she would rather see you 
dead than happy with me? She shall not 
triumph. Listen, Egon. Oh, do not strive 
to free yourself! You will have to drag me 
with you over the stones, back to the place of 
meeting. His bullet must first pierce my heart 
to reach yours.” 

Her agony was terrible. It wrung his heart. 
When he would reason with her, she placed 
her hand on his mouth and silenced him. 

“ We can go back to America together,” she 
whispered faintly, with her arms around his 
neck ; “ there no one will know. What do I 
care for Carlshohe ? Do not leave me alone in 
the world. Oh, Egon, have pity ! ” 

She sank in the wet grass at his feet and 
clasped his knees. Her voice was choked with 
sobs. He could not bear to leave her thus; 
and yet, the hours were passing. They would 
think him a coward. 

“ Prasseda,” he said, “ this parting is like 
death to me; but I must go. P'ranz took me 
when a child. He has given me everything. 
My life is his to take if he chooses : he struck 
me yesterday. At first I felt enraged beyond 


/ 


242 ODDS AGAINST HER. 

reason ; but I have thought the matter over. It 
would be cowardly in me to wrong you. I 
should have my own way to make in the world. 
By rights you should inherit Carlshohe. In 
any case Franz will settle something on you. 
He will do this for your father’s sake. Some 
day your'rights will be proven. Some day he 
will learn that I was not the dastard he thought 
me, and I know how bitter his regret will be.” 

“You talk as if it all were ended, Egon,” 
she cried ; and then, as if struck by a sudden 
idea, “You can not mean that you will not de- 
fend yourself ? ” 

He smiled mournfully. 

“Defend myself? Do you think I would 
raise a pistol against my benefactor — my friend, 
to whom I owe even my daily bread ? Thank 
God, Prasseda, I have not sunk so low as that.” 

She threw her arms around him with a low 
cry. 

“ And you ask me to countenance a mur- 
der? ” 

He heard the town clock strike in the dis- 
tance ; the hour was already past ; he must 
break away at any cost. 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


243 


Prasseda, let me go,” he said in a tone of 
entreaty. 

Suddenly she relaxed her hold, and sank 
back as if dead in his arms. He sought to 
retrace his steps, but the burden dragged him 
down. At the edge of the wood he met old 
Lena limping down the hill. He called her 
and left the fainting girl in her care. Better 
leave her now before she awoke to conscious- 
ness and pain. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


D own by the beach Paul and the doctor 
stood waiting. Franz had gone on alone. 
Still Egon did not come. The sun rose higher 
and swept the sea, but there was no sign of 
him anywhere. Paul said he hoped the boy 
had taken to his heels. It would be sensible, 
though rather out of the usual course. He 
characterized the whole proceeding as ab- 
surd ; but there was an expression in Franz’s 
face that made him uneasy, for he was a 
dead shot. Paul muttered a curse and re- 
marked that he washed his hands of the whole 
matter. 

“ Hulda is the devil,’' he said. 

“ Oh, it will soon be over ! ” returned 
Schultz in a cheerful tone. “They will fire in 
the air and settle it easily.” 

“Not so easily as you fancy, my good 
Schultz. There will be work for you yet,” he 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


245 


muttered, drawing his cap down about his 
ears. The morning air was chilly. 

Franz went on, some distance ahead. The 
ravages of the storm were visible everywhere. 
Here were trees fallen across the path. In the 
distance the quicksand trembled in the morn- 
ing light. He reached the oak-tree at the top 
of the wood, and stopped to rest. Why did 
the others not come and put an end to his 
suspense ? 

He could see Egon's boyish face peeping 
out through the broken rim of an old hat. 
They had gathered chestnuts together under 
those trees when his brother was a child. How 
Franz had loved him ! He would have given his 
life for the boy in those days. What a happy 
laugh he had ! It was contagious. None could 
hear it without joining in his merriment. But 
he had given, his protector nothing but pain. 

First he had stolen the girl Franz would have 
married from Felsenstein, and now he slandered 
the woman his brother loved. It would be 
only justice to kill him. He had not thought 
Egon’s nature was so wicked and revengeful. 
But Hulda would not state what was false. 


246 


ODDS AGAINST HER, 


Why had he troubled himself about this 
girl ? Better have left her to starve in her 
native mountains. She had brought only dis- 
sension into their midst. 

He would give Egon one more chance to 
acknowledge that he had lied. Time was pass- 
ing. Had his courage failed him at the last ?. 
He was not a coward. 

The wind was blowing from the sea. It 
stirred the grasses near the shore. A limb 
broken from the great oak bore evidence to the 
fury of the storm. 

Something was lying in the grass near by. 
A woman’s shawl. 

It looked familiar, but women’s shawls were 
all alike. 

There were prints of high heels on the 
sand. A woman’s foot had pressed deep into 
the shelving beach. Not far away lay a red 
morocco shoe half filled with pebbles. The 
shoe was Hulda’s. How came it there ? 

He took a step further; then recoiled in 
horror. 

She was lying in the grass, face downward. 
He knew every turn of her graceful body. The 


ODDS AGAINST HER. 


247 


dark hair lay in masses on her shoulders, the 
hands were thrown forward as if to save herself 
in falling. Had he not kissed them at part- 
ing, in passionate fear that he might never see 
her again? Now he dreaded to meet those 
sightless eyes. He dared not touch her. 

But this was cowardice. Perhaps he might yet 
bring back life to her frozen veins. He Tifted her 
up tenderly. The open eyes were fixed in horror; 
the quivering mouth was half parted as though 
an exclamation of terror had passed her pal- 
lid lips. The hand was rigid, clasped so that 
the nails were imbedded in the flesh. 

She was dead hours ago. 

He sat there holding the body to his breast 
and strove to impart some warmth to her 
cold heart. In vain. Could he ever forget 
that fearful look? It burned into his brain. 
He called her by endearing names. He pressed 
passionate kisses on the cold, unresponsive 
mouth. He took her dead hand in his 
and chafed it vigorously. What was it she 
was holding clenched in her palm? A paper 
tied with a yellow ribbon. A love-letter ? 
His veins ran cold at the thought. .His jeal- 


248 


ODDS A GAINS 7' HER. 


ousy was roused even in death. Had he pos> 
sessed her love? Perhaps this was the secret 
of her presence there. This might tell why she 
had left the castle in the storm alone at night. 
She might have been enticed away and mur- 
dered. 

He wrenched it from her hand, trembling at 
the thought. It was parchment, and, though 
blotted, still legible, in spite of dust and 
rain. 

This is to certify that Ulrich von Arnim — ” 
he read aloud. Did his eyes deceive him ? Had 
he really done the boy an injustice, after all ? 
He read it to the end, and the accompanying 
documents which proved his cousin right. 

His understanding was dull. He must have 
time to grasp the depth of her infamy. 

And he had loved her so ! He had placed 
his whole faith in her word, had repudiated his 
brother, nay, would have shot him in cold blood 
for her sake. 

It was horrible ! 

He laid the body back upon the grass, cov- 
ered the cold hands, and pressed her lids over 
the staring eyes. 


ODDS AGAINST' HER. 


249 


Life was ended for him. 

When Paul and Schultz arrived he handed 
them the papers ; pointed mechanically to the 
dead woman ; then leaving them without a 
word walked towards the Schloss, just asLlgon 
emerged breathless from the wood. 

* * * * * * * 
They buried her with her kindred in Russia, 
far away. Her name is never mentioned at 
Carlshohe, where Egon and Prasseda live hap- 
pily together, forgetting even the evil she would 
have wrought them. 


THE END. 



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